


no one can really see

by dearmrhansen



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe, Angst, BUT I KEEP SEEING HIM AS A JEWISH BOY SO, Childhood Trauma, Evan Hansen - Freeform, Friends to Lovers, HE JEWISH, Heavy Angst, I DONT THINK EVAN BEING JEWISH IS CANON???, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Self Harm, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Suicide mentions, and a lot of panicking/sensory overload?, both trying to be ok, but cute !, connor lies bc he doesnt know what else 2 do, dear evan hansen - Freeform, evan lies but not compulsively, honestly both really problematic, if it makes anybody uncomfortable ill tag for eating disorder too, like a lot of depression and shit, not eating disorder though, reaaalllyyy slow, so much weed, theres like an eating disorder mention, these boys r depressed, trigger warning for like bad eating habits, uhhhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2018-12-18 11:51:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 67,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11873778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearmrhansen/pseuds/dearmrhansen
Summary: Evan is scared of Connor. Until Connor finds him trying to kill himself.They bond.





	1. the tree and a hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You don't have to feel like- you know, bad like that."
> 
> Evan is carried all the way to Connor's car, and Connor even carries the boy's backpack on him, with the note crumbled in his pocket. "Huh?" Evan asks, wiping his tears with the arm that doesn't feel numb. He should maybe get that checked out. But he doesn't want to. But Connor wants him to.

"Fuck!" Connor shouts, the sketches that were previously on top of his binders slammed down. Evan's eyes widen, and he turns red at the sight of Connor bending down to grab his things away from their feet. He freezes, and Connor furrows his eyebrows at him when he sees he's still staring at him. 

"God, I- I'm so sorry- I didn't- It's my fault, I should- I should be more careful! I'm sorry- so sorry and I- I-" Evan shuts his mouth, he squeezes his eyes tight and he grips to the edges of his backpack. Connor has his sketches back, but his knuckles are still white from the pressure of gripping his notebook hard enough to not punch this _kid._ "Bye- Sorry- I'm sorry." 

It's not like there was a huge scene in the middle of the school, in fact, school was over, Connor just came from detention, Evan just came from an after school lesson with his Algebra teacher. Neither of them had anything to be embarrassed about, but that didn't stop Evan from storming away from the situation. Connor scoffs at him when he runs, muttering a soft, "freak," under his breath and stuffing the binder under his sketchbook in his locker. When he starts to head home, he doesn't bother texting his sister he's leaving the school, which leaves Zoe to ride the late bus home, yet again. 

Evan always takes that bus. Or, if it's too crowded (meaning more than five other people on the bus with him), he walks. It might be 90 degrees outside, and the walk home might be twenty-five minutes, but anything is better than having another freak out in the fucking bus. When he was in freshman year, he drove the school bus to school once when his mom was at work, and he ended up crying and screaming and just shouting. At least it quieted down the bus. It also established a certain reputation for him as being a complete fucking mental case. He wasn't that bad, really, he just got overwhelmed easily. Especially in places like a school bus. 

Larry Murphy has always been a man of great simplicity. He greets Connor twice a day, in the morning, and then in the evening when he comes home. The rest of their interactions are fights. Sometimes it's fights about Connor doing bad in school. Sometimes it's about how Connor punched Zoe in the face, _again._ But usually, it's about how everybody always acts like he doesn't exist. One time, he got his first ever A in History class, and told everybody at the dinner table. Nobody cared enough to do anything at all, nobody told him, "good job," or "keep it up!" So, he yelled at them. He made them feel like shit, because they deserved it, and he stopped trying in History. Whenever he wanted to do something good, everybody made a big deal about it, except for his parents.

"Hey, Connor, how's life, bud?" Larry asks when he sees Connor in the kitchen after coming back from work. Connor burps into his face, and then laughs at the discomfort his father portrays. 

"Some weird guy wearing a polo made me drop my sketchbook in the hallway after school today so I beat him up, I'm suspended now." His father bites down on his lip, disappointment dawning on him. He leans on the counter and rests his hand on his forehead. "I'm joking, Larry. Have a sense of humor for five seconds," Connor laughs again and Larry clenches his jaw.

"I'm your father, not 'Larry.'" Connor scoffs at that, taking the orange juice from the fridge and bringing the entire carton upstairs. There's no reason to call him father if he doesn't even try to play the part.

Connor heads to his room, his hair now tied into a bun, and sits down on his bed with his phone in hand. Nobody really likes him, so his best option is to go on Tumblr. People like him on there. He can make people believe he's better than he actually is, you know? He tells complete strangers about his life and he gives advice and he's an open book there.

If anybody ever found that fucking blog, he would be institutionalized, _again._

\------------------

Evan Hansen doesn't like being alive.

That should be pretty obvious to people. Summer has been horrid for him, and his first few days in high school have been spent with him slugging himself through his classes. He's even gotten a C. He never gets C's. 

His mother though, Heidi, can't possibly know. She's always out, whether she's at her job or at her classes, she's always somewhere that isn't home. Evan hasn't felt loved in God knows how long, he hasn't felt wanted since Summer started. So, he figures there's nothing he can do except leave.

He weighed his options carefully, made a list. Pros and Cons of running away. Pros and Cons of smoking pot. Pros and Cons of killing himself.

He couldn't find any cons to the last one.

A week before school had started, Evan had decided he would try. And he would really try now. He was too afraid to do it with a razor or with pills or with anything, really, because he hated pain. But he decided that on the third day of high school, he would go to Ellison State Park, climb the highest tree all the way to the top, and then just fall. No more being alone, no more of being unwanted, he would make things okay for everybody again. Even for people like Connor, to whom he was nothing but a bother. To people like Jared, who claimed he was his friend, but also claimed he only did it because he wanted car insurance from his mom and they were just 'family friends.'

Day three was here, and Evan was walking to Ellison State Park after school instead of home. Fuck the bus home, too. His head had been weird and quiet all day, that was a sign that he had nothing left. It's usually so loud up there and today, he was empty.

Evan didn't even notice he started crying halfway through his walk, and when he did notice, he put his head down firmly and wiped the tears. He grabbed onto his backpack tighter than before, and suddenly, he's afraid. His head is loud again. Everything is yelling at him to walk faster, to finally do it, but he's too afraid to. And he's also ready to. So he listens to his own mind, and he starts to jog to the park, and his jogging turns to running.

"Come on, Evan," he whispers to himself when he gets there, and he slowly approaches the tallest tree across the yellow fields. He knows which one it is. You could see he's quite keen on trees and everything about him. "You can do it." He drops his backpack, which has his _note_ in it, and he starts to climb.

It's one branch after the other, and he feels one of them snap already, so he quickly moves to a sturdier branch. _I'm not at the top yet._

He reaches the top after three minutes of shaky crying and shaky climbing. His feet dangle from the thick, high branch. Evan just hopes he doesn't get paralyzed instead of die. That would suck.

He takes four deep breaths, and slowly slides himself forward. He's so far from the ground that he doesn't even realize where his backpack is. While he still has some control, he looks around. It looks like nobody is here. He closes his eyes, afraid of what is coming his way, and he drops.

He drops at least sixty feet from a Black Willow and nothing happens.

He drops with a grunt, and slowly, his arm goes numb. 

"Hey!" Evan knew the voice. He placed it immediately.

 _"Fuck!"_ was what he had said just hours ago. 

"Dude, hey, are you okay?! I saw you fall!" Connor rushes to him, breathing heavily. Evan lays there, pale face with his arm limp to his side, and he nods. No emotion. Connor knows he's not okay. He just fell from a fucking tree. "I'll call 911."

"No!" Evan yells. If this didn't kill him, maybe laying here for long enough will. Maybe he'll be eaten by fucking maggots or by a fucking wolf, anything. He just wants to die. "No! No, th- that's okay! I- I- I'm okay! I can just- just go home and- and yeah!" Evan goes from pale to red, back to pale with wide eyes. He can't feel enough right now. Everything feels numb. Connor frowns, and he crouches down in front of the boy. It only then occurs to him that this is Polo Shirt.

Connor wouldn't have felt bad leaving him there until he saw that the zipper of the boy's backpack had a note stuck into it. "This yours?"

"M- maybe! Hey- what are you- what are you doing?! Do- Don't go through my things!" Connor ignores him, he takes the note into his fingers and he sits down next to Evan, who was now crying a bit. Emotions were back. Fuck.

"Dear... well, nobody. I want to let anybody that cares at all know that I can't do it. I'm sorry. I'm too much, everything is too much, everybody is better off without me and nobody would even care. I tried pretending like this year would be different, but it's not. I could never change. I'm sorry. I can't be alone anymore. Sincerely, Evan Hansen." Connor read it out loud. He didn't mean to embarrass Evan, they both knew that, but he scared him. He made him cry.

It didn't help that Evan had been afraid of Connor since second grade.

"Stop crying." Connor realizes he just read his suicide note and realizes that was probably too harsh for somebody suicidal enough to try and take their own life, so, he adds, "Please." Evan realizes he's being picked up by Connor Murphy when he feels his breath against his face, and he wants to get out of the grip. He doesn't want to be held. He wants to die. "You don't have to feel like- you know, bad like that."

Evan is carried all the way to Connor's car, and Connor even carries the boy's backpack on him, with the note crumbled in his pocket. "Huh?" Evan asks, wiping his tears with the arm that doesn't feel numb. He should maybe get that checked out. But he doesn't want to. But Connor wants him to. It's too much.

"I want to take you to the emergency room. Your arm needs to be looked at, Evan." 

Nobody ever even said his name anymore. Hearing it felt weird.

"I-I'm fine, Co-Connor. I- I- don't care." 

"How do you know my name?"

Evan's eyes widen. "You beat me up in second grade."

"Sorry."

"I- It's okay."

Connor stares down at his feet. "Let's get your arm checked, okay?"

Evan is afraid of getting beat up again. "Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha ha ha yes ! i am here and i am Ready for some good Angsty Teens


	2. phone numbers on gum wrappers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I _can't_ be your friend. I'm dangerous, insensitive and I'll hurt you. I don't want to hurt any more people, okay?" 
> 
> "Maybe we can help each other."

Connor feels obligated, immediately, to stay by his side while he's in the emergency room. They said the breaking of his arm wasn't all too bad, but he should be in a cast for at least three months. And they had to perform surgery. When they were done, he introduced himself as a friend when they asked his relationship to the patient, and he still felt bad about it.

Connor isn't a bad person. Sometimes, he does bad people stuff, but he doesn't want to. When he gets angry or has an outburst or hits somebody, he usually doesn't mean to. But, his father refuses to admit it's a problem and blames it on his teenage years. His mother, Cynthia, is a little better about it. But that's probably just because of what happened.

Evan doesn't remember a lot about, well, anything that happened when he wakes up from the pain medication they put him on. All he knows is that Connor is sitting by his bed, asleep on a chair next to him. _Has it really been that long?_ He sits up from his position, and he noticed the cast around his arm. He doesn't smile or frown, he just stares. His eyes are fixated on being disappointed in himself. And confused as to why Connor fucking Murphy, who called him a freak less than twelve hours ago, waited for the surgery to be over. 

He doesn't want to be rude, but he taps the boy's shoulder anyway, once softly. Then a bit harder. When Connor snores lazily, he taps harder again, and Connor shocks up slightly, pulling away from the touch. He smacks his lips together and looks up at Evan with hazy eyes, obviously trying to get used to the brightness of the room. "Why-why are you still here?"

Connor yawns, shrugging. "I found you, didn't I? What kind of person leaves somebody that just tried to kill himself?" Evan looks at him with big eyes, waving his arm and shushing him. He chuckles a little. Why would he need to be quiet about this? 

"My-my mom could be- could be here any minute," he keeps his voice down, looking around the room, paranoid. Connor is nothing but amused. "I- I- don't want her to- to- know I got bad again." Connor bites down on his lip. Okay. So, that's it. He can't tell Mrs. Hansen. He won't, either, Connor might be cruel, but not like that. 

He nods in understanding, softly touching Evan's arm. There's scars on his upper arm, usually hidden by his polo shirts, but he decides to not comment on them. "Okay." That's the first time Connor has been genuinely nice in months. He might have problems connecting with people, but he's good at sympathy. Empathy, that's a little bit of a different story, though. "Yeah, okay. That's okay, Hansen." 

Evan smiles a little, and he pokes and the corner of his hospital blankets. "I- I- should probably- just- I shouldn't be here- my- my mom can't afford stuff like... like this." Connor's amazed by his ability to still be able to stutter while on this many pain killers, hours after a surgery. 

"My family can help- or I can. They're piss rich." He shrugs, Evan thanks him, but declines the offer. 

They sit in silence for a while. They don't really know each other. They don't really know how to make friends.

Connor decides that this boy is too anxious to start the conversation of becoming his friend, if he even wanted to be friends, so he takes the initiative into his own hands. "So, what does Evan Hansen, the tree climber, do for fun?" He stares up, and Evan frowns a little. He looks like he's about to cry, and Connor feels like he might snap because he _can't_ fucking handle him crying again. Does he think he's making fun of him? "Stop crying. I actually wanna know, though, speak up, tree hugger."

"I- I- like writing. I like to- to- research a lot a- about trees." Evan pauses. Connor can tell he's trying really hard to come up with sometimes else. "I like- I like nothing else." Fuck, that was depressing. Connor feels a little bad for asking. Feels like he tried too hard.

"Dude, be glad you're interested in any topic at all. I like to draw, sometimes I read for fun, but I could never research anything." He chuckles, and Evan smiles a bit. Connor eyes the small cup of Sharpies across the room. "Want me to sign your cast?" 

Evan goes from smiling to blushing within what Connor thought was an impossible time frame.

Nevertheless, he nods, still bright red. Connor picks up a Sharpie from the other side, and reaches over. He starts to write his name in big letters, leaving no room for anybody else. Is that selfish? "Oh- thanks..." He says it in a tone that's close to sarcastic. Connor doesn't let his tone bother him for too long, and he nods, putting the sharpie back. 

While he's standing in the corner, the door of the room swings open, and Heidi, his mother, runs in. She sits down on the seat next to him, Connor's seat. Connor gets a little angry, but he doesn't let it get it him. Not in a hospital. He would probably be sent out only to never return again. When Heidi starts to stroke Evan's hair, telling him how glad she is that he's okay, Connor fumbles with the suicide note crumbled in his pocket. If only she knew what really happened. 

After a bit, Connor coughs to make himself known.

It's not that obvious, and Heidi only really notices him when she notices Evan's signed cast and Evan points to Connor. He waves at Heidi softly. "What happened?!" Heidi insists on asking Connor. He thinks about how easy it could be to just give her the note. No words said. But he doesn't. Evan looks into his direction with panic in his eyes, and he silently assures him it's okay with a nod.

"I was looking for a place to draw at the park and then I see Evan like, at the top of a tree. The branch breaks and then he's on the floor, and I come running to him but I couldn't anything except bring him here." Heidi nods, going over to Connor and reaching for a hug. "I don't like- uh- touch." Heidi apologizes softly, and he accidentally rolls his eyes. The fact that she saw it doesn't make a very good impression, either.

When she says 'I love you,' to Evan, Connor decides he needs to leave. So he does, without saying a word, he stumbles out of the hospital and he doesn't feel bad anymore and he feels like Evan is fine now. Because Evan is probably in therapy, you know? If it was bad enough that he wanted to kill himself, he must be in therapy. 

And Connor is nothing close to therapy. Maybe the opposite. 

His way of comforting people includes screaming at them, or storming out of the room, annoyed with their crying or their whining or their _whatever._

He drives home with a frown on his face, not because he's upset, but because he's angry, and like sometimes, he doesn't know why. All he knows is that he's really not excited to see his parents like this, because 1) it's five in the morning and 2) they're going to think he's high. He's not high. He hasn't smoked in three days. His knuckles turn white from pushing on the steering wheel, and he shouts at anybody that's driving in front of him. He doesn't want to be interviewed by his father anyway, and honestly, just skipping breakfast sounds okay right now. 

He tried to make it into the house as quietly as he could, but as soon as he opened the door, his father stared at his with arms crossed.

"Where have you been all night?" He asks sternly, his eyes squinted. Connor tries really hard not to snap. Really hard. "Answer me!"

"None of your fucking business, _Larry._ " Larry's nostrils flared, it was obvious, but he stayed semi-calm. Connor slammed the open door behind him now, laughing in a kind of disbelief as he walked over to the couch.

"Probably getting stoned again, weren't you?" Connor has his back to his father, hand on the orange couch in front of him. He laughs again, in even more disbelief. "Answer me!"

"Is that all I can fucking do?!" He shouts, tipping the couch over to slam into the glass coffee table, his father is about to protest, try to make him stop, but he can't. "Am I just your fucking stoner son that does nothing but that?" He steps closer to his dad, and that's when he notices his mom and his sister in the staircase, both terrified. He doesn't care. Larry takes a breath. 

"Then where were you if not getting stoned?" 

Connor laughs again, stepping closer. "What do you not get?" He pushes his dad. For a lanky kid, he has a lot of anger, which makes him stronger than he looks. A lot stronger. "I have a life that doesn't involve pot. Stop pretending to actually want to know anything about me." He scoffs, looking Larry dead in the eyes. "You're nothing but a stranger to me. You just don't fucking try." He storms past Larry to the staircase where his sister and mom are, and pushes through them. He storms to his room, and he closes the door. His mom removed his lock. So the best he can do is shove his dresser in front of it. 

He sits down on the floor next to his bed, and he begins to rock around. He takes his jacket off. Too hot. He takes his tight skinny jeans off, too close. He puts his hair into a bun and he sits on the floor with his face in his knees. 

He doesn't exactly cry.

It's more of a dry sob. Connor believes he doesn't have tears. Like, because he never cries, his body doesn't care enough to make tears anymore. 

_I'm sorry that I do it all wrong and that I don't know when it's too much and that I get so aggressive, fuck. Sorry for being the worst son ever._

He starts to scratch and the familiar scars on his thighs, and they begin to get irritated, small droplets of blood opening from fairly new ones. He thinks back at Evan's scars, but quickly tries to ignore his thoughts. It's not his place to fix Evan, or to help him, or even to care. He rubs his forehead with he palms of his hands, stopping himself, and he looks down at the space in between his legs, breathing heavy. "You're a complete fucking failure, Connor." He chuckles a bit. Saying things to himself has always been weird. "You've fucked this whole family over and you don't even know how to apologize for it. Do you even want to apologize?" The next chuckle is a bit colder, and it causes him to move from the floor to his bed. He's skipping school today. No way he's going back there with the hour of sleep he got from being in an uncomfy chair with Polo Boy. 

\----------

Polo Boy wasn't going to school either.

Evan Hansen would never skip, it's just that the hospital said he would be discharged at eleven, and his school would be half over, so it would only be inconvenient. Plus, his mom has work. Like always. So, he actually wouldn't be discharged until about nine in the evening. Great news, right?

He can't stop staring down at the signature Connor put on his cast. It feels like he's been claimed. Which, isn't the best feeling. But, this could be the start of a friendship, no? Why else would he have written his name on his cast in giant letters, you know?

When he lays back down in the bed, he finds himself wishing Connor had said goodbye. Maybe even given him his number. But that's fucking insane, isn't it? Connor Murphy, the guy that was arrested once and held overnight, that skips school at least twice a week, could never be his friend. Why would he even want him to be his friend? He's heard all the rumors, all the scoffs at him and all the people that hate him. Evan had always been scared of him, but seeing him like this made him... well, it gave him some hope. 

Maybe he could be good?

He has free time in the hospital until late, so he takes his phone, and he stares blankly. He doesn't have anybody to tell this to except for Jared. And Jared probably doesn't give a fuck. He shoots him a text anyway, hoping he can maybe pick him up after school instead of after nine. Jared replies with a sloppy apology and a stern no. So, Evan's still fucked.

Sleep? Yeah okay, sleep. 

He closes his eyes, arms at his sides and he huffs small breaths. Sleeping gets about eighty times harder when in a hospital. A scientific fact. "God dammit it," the boy struggles, because of his stupid arm, but also because he can't stop thinking about what would've happened if he fell, and, you know, died. 

He eyes his backpack in the corner of the room, Connor must've left it there, and he thinks back at his note. His note that Connor still has. 

"Knock knock?" Connor said quietly, tapping twice on Evan's open door. The latter boy smiles, motioning for him to come in. 

"I- It's only one- one in the afternoon, w-what are you- you doing here?" Evan forgets that he's a chronic school skipper. He feels a little bad, and turns his head from Connor in shame.

"I got into a fight with Larry this morning and haven't stopped thinking about it, so, here I am!" The thing he doesn't say is that he went here so he wouldn't hurt himself. Though he thinks Evan would understand, he's not ready for that kind of talking yet. He's still a little angry, and Evan can tell because his eyebrows are furrowed and it looks like he's gonna explode from huffing so much. 

Evan apologizes gently, and Connor rolls his eyes. His philosophy had always been: _You can't be sorry for somebody else when something bad has happened to them._ Which was a very logical thing to say and to think. 

"Why- why d-d- did you care?" Evan asks, and Connor frowns, eyebrow raised in question as he takes place back on his uncomfortable chair. "When I- I- fell," he feels bad saying it, because he didn't just fall and their both know it, "Why- why would you t- t- take me here?" 

"I was gonna leave you there, you know." Connor looks down; ashamed. Evan's eyes start to glisten with welling tears. "But, I saw your note and I just couldn't. It's not in my nature to be kind, it was hard to let everything go and care about one person like this." Evan can feel the tears running down his cheeks, but he wipes them, remembering Connor hates tears. "It's just- I don't want to be your friend. No, let me-" he looks at Evan, who is looking down with shiny eyes and a quivering lip, probably shouldn't have said it like that, dumbass. "I _can't_ be your friend. I'm dangerous, insensitive and I'll hurt you. I don't want to hurt any more people, okay?" 

"Maybe we can help each other." 

He frowns, Evans's stutter went away because of his excitement, grabbing Connor's shoulder with one hand, which he quickly shrugged off. It offended Evan a little, but then he remembers what Connor said to his mom and he feels bad. "What do you mean?"

"L- like, I think we-we're both needing some... friend- friendships?" Evan sits up, obviously hopeful. "O- or maybe we can- we can help e- e- each other diff- different ways, too." 

Connor sits back in his seat. Friendship doesn't sound bad. It sounds quite nice, actually. Only, he can't do friendships and he's afraid of hurting him. Especially because he's so fragile, and Connor is like a fucking tornado. "What do you mean different ways?"

Evan squeaks, "Like- like mental p- problems. Y- you said re- reading the note made you- made you stay." Connor doesn't let it show, but he turns red. 

"I don't need any mental help," he denies, and he's lying. They both know that he is. "I'm- I'm normal, you know?" Evan nods. The air in the room is thick again, and his decline makes Evan visibly upset. Connor pulls out a scrap of a gum wrapper from his pocket, and he walks over to get a thin sharpie. 

He returns with the gum wrapper, places it on Evan's chest, and he leaves. 

It's his number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes henlo ! i wrote most of this at 1 am so if it's really bad pls don't Shame Me


	3. cone whore paints trees now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he feels like he's going to hurt himself, he grabs his paint tools, and he draws over his scars and over his body, pretending like they don't exist. He usually draws cats or ferrets or any animal he can make look strange, but not this time.
> 
> This time he drew trees.
> 
> For his weird new kind-of-maybe-sort-of new friend.

_Hi, this is Evan. Just wanted to check and make sure this is Connor Murphy?_

_no? who is this?_

Evan felt a rush of disappointment float over himself, of course he wouldn't give him his real number. Why would he want to be friends with the kid that just attempted suicide? _He only stayed next to you because he felt pity for you. He doesn't care. He gave a fake phone number so you would leave him alone._

_im kidding plEase yes this is cone whore_

_Cone whore?_

_its a funny way of pronouncing connor just go with it_

_It's* Connor*_

_god i hate u already_

Evan doesn't know how to respond now. He knows it's a joke, or rather, he should know it's a joke. He can't make himself realize that it's just a joke. He starts to cry, he gets scared. Connor wanted to be his friend, right? Or maybe he was just playing him? Maybe he was just pretending to because he doesn't have any friends either. Is that really that bad, though? It's better than nothing. 

His mother swings by at nine, and she walks his to the car with a hand on his back. Evan thinks she's nice, but doesn't think anything else of her. He barely knows her now. Which sucks, like, a lot, because his mom and him used to be so close. They used to have Taco Tuesdays almost every single week; Evan can't remember when the last one was. It shouldn't be something to complain about, because so many kids have it worse. 

"I- I'm going to my room," Evan says, whispering. He ends up halfway up the stairs when his mother calls back down for him, and he bites down on his lip. He feels bad about thinking that she's annoying. Like- really bad.

His mom pounded on the empty spot on the sofa next to her, and Evan grunted, making his way back down and sitting next to her. As far away as possible. "Why were you climbing a tree all by yourself? And a big one like that?"

Evan shifts uncomfortably. He's not gonna tell her, she'd make the monthly appointments with Dr. Sherman weekly again and he didn't want that. "I thought I- I- was like- ready." His mother pouts, in pity, and goes to wrap her arm around him. He lets her, because he doesn't want her thinking that he hates her. "I- I- have homework, mom." He stares at her with wide eyes, hoping to get some sort of forgiveness from her. She nods, telling him to go right ahead.

_tree boy's gone ):_

Evan smiles a little, and he puts his phone down. He doesn't want to ignore him, but he really does have today's homework to do. Which Jared and Alana kindly sent his way through a thread of emails. He thinks that's sweet, maybe people would have cared if he was gone today. If he wasn't alive today. Maybe they would only care because he is dead, not because they liked him. Like a pity kind of care.

He tries to do his homework, but he somehow falls asleep to the thought of his death only meaning something because it's tragic. Not because of him.

\-------

Connor is angry.

He doesn't enjoy getting ignored, and he doesn't like being left on read, but because he has only known Evan Hansen for a day and a half, he lets it slide. He doesn't mass text him telling him that he hates him. Instead of doing all that, he rips down his curtains and trashes his room with books and sits on his bed just trying to breathe. A really healthy coping mechanism. 

This is why he never has friends, everything gets worse. Deep down, he just wants people to like him.

Nobody ever does, simply because he freaks out on them days after forming the friendship. He's tried. He's been trying since second grade, and sometimes he wishes he just had a fucking therapist to talk to something, _anything_ about. Whenever he has suggested the idea to his dad, he would scold him and tell him he's looking for excuses to act like an asshole. 

He really wished that was all.

He can't breathe because a guy that he barely knows left him on fucking read. What kind of idiot does that? Realizing it's two in the morning soon enough, he sighs. He keeps the dresser in front of his door, which would certainly get him in trouble in the morning. He decides that Evan doesn't want to be his friend, and he gets sad again. Everything he tries fails. He can't seem to get anything right. Ever. Sad doesn't last long; and he's angry again. His hands dig into his arms, punching against his bed frame. 

"Fuck!" He shouts, launching another book at the wall. "Why can't I fucking do something right for _once?!_ " He punches the wall that attaches his room to Zoe's room, and he notices the dent he's made in it previously is right next to the new one. 

"Shut the fuck up, Connor!"

"You shut up, whore! I'll fucking kill you!" Connor shouts back.

He regrets it, well, immediately. He drags himself down to the floor, sitting with arms crossed, bare and exposed. Everything is scarred. Inside and out, Connor is one big scar. He's nothing but suicide watch hospital visits. He's nothing but a lifeless sack of red fire ants, attacking when there's a small rip in the bag. He can't fucking breath again. So that's great. 

There's no technique that has ever helped Connor calm himself, probably because his spurts of not breathing aren't quite panic attacks or anxiety attack, they're more like regret attacks. Or anger attacks, when he gets too fucking worked up on everything. He closes his eyes, and he tries really fucking hard to keep his breathing even, to keep everything even, but it doesn't work. He's afraid of losing control, because his head is screaming at him to apologize, but the other part of his head is telling him that it would make him weak and _fuck,_ he doesn't know what to do. 

"Connor, open the door, sweetie?" It's his mother. Cynthia. He feels his breathing get heavier. His mother is the only person that somehow understands it's more than just teenage hormones but Larry has never let her take Connor to a psychologist aside from when he was forced to. "Connor, please?"

Connor gets up from his spot on the floor, against the wall, with shaky legs and shaky arms. He tries so fucking hard to breath like a normal person when he carefully moves the dresser a bit to the side to peak his head out. "I'm okay." He's learned that that's all he has to say, and his mother will leave him alone. "Go back to sleep." The door closes before Cynthia's face, who looks at Larry standing behind her, and starts to tear up.

When he needs to get away from absolutely everything, Connor draws on his body. When he feels like he's going to hurt himself, he grabs his paint tools, and he draws over his scars and over his body, pretending like they don't exist. He usually draws cats or ferrets or any animal he can make look strange, but not this time.

This time he drew trees.

For his weird new kind-of-maybe-sort-of new friend. Who is most likely more than asleep at four in the morning, but Connor stays up until then in order to get himself fully calm. But, to his surprise, his new-found friend texts him at 4:06 am.

_Hey, I'm so so so so sorry! I was trying to do homework and then I just kind of... fell asleep...._

He finds himself smiling because of the text, but then he gets angry, because he doesn't want to be weak. And just simply reply within seconds. He waits until two minutes have passed. Doesn't make up for hours of Evan not responding, but it's the best Connor can do.

_its all good lol i didnt even look at my phone_

Except he's been looking at his phone at least twenty times every five minutes. He doesn't feel bad about this lie. He's not going to tell Evan he's a mess like Evan told him he's a mess. He doesn't do that kind of thing. Unless the boy walks in on him trying to hang himself, he's not telling him _shit_. 

_Are you free? It's really late or early or whatever but I'm not feeling super great._  
_You don't have to I'm sorry._  
_Ugh that was probably so selfish. You don't have to_

_calm down bud yeah sure ill come over, that okay? send ur address and ill be there asap_

He doesn't know why he agrees. Because he's still a little angry. And if Evan asks him to comfort him or asks him for advice, he's going to go blank. Or he's going to get angry again. He doesn't fucking want to. He doesn't even really want to go, he meant what he told Evan before. He doesn't want to hurt him, and he most definitely will if he becomes his actual friend. He sends his address, and Connor gets ready so fucking fast; climbing into his car within three minutes.

Fuck, friendship was so exciting to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is Shorter than the previous ones i am sorry ! its more of an info chapter to like show what their behaviors are like and Such


	4. failing physics and failing friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A-are you m- mad?" 
> 
> "A little bit, _Hansen._ " Evan sniffles, and he looks up at Connor. Connor's eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth is formed into a frown, his hands grabbing tightly at an empty notebook he took from Evan's drawer. But Evan notices Connor is more than just angry. Maybe not sad, but... different? When people are angry, you can see it in their eyes, but in Connor's eyes, all he could see was fear. 
> 
> He decides not to comment. But he also decides that from that day out, he's gonna try and calm Connor down when he gets mad. Maybe they can help each other.

With another text from Connor, Evan knows he's at his door. He runs down to get the door, he could've rang the doorbell and everything would've been fine because his mom is already gone for an early shift. Like every other day. When the door opens, Evan sees Connor smiling smugly, and then he sees that Connor's face is a little red, but he doesn't ask. It's not his place to ask.

"Hey, tree fetishist," Connor whispers, entering the house with his shoes leaving dirt marks on the wood, but it looks like Evan does the same. Evan sighs at the comment, mostly because he does love trees, but just not in that kind of way, you know? "Up to your room then?"

Evan nods, pointing him to the staircase. The first thing Connor notices is how much smaller his house is. He doesn't shame the boy, of course, but it's interesting to see how much environments change being just a few minutes away from each other. He hears Evan coming up the stairs, and he stops his intrusive roaming through their hallway and finds the room with blue walls. Surely, it's his.

"You-you don't h-have to whisper," Evan starts when they're in his room, "Mom's- she's not h-home." Somehow, that made Connor feel like he was being _used._ Just a replacement for his mother. Just somebody to sit with.

But is that really so bad?

Connor hasn't been over to anybody else's house since kindergarten, so he takes the time to look around. He checks the closet, he searches the drawers, all with Evan's permission, of course. "You okay, dude?" He's hesitant to ask, because he doesn't want this to spiral into a deep conversation. He looks behind him, where Evan is fumbling with the collar of his pajama shirt. 

"Yeah- just like, I was thinking about what would have happened if I died and like how people wouldn't care about me dying and would only care about a person in their school dying, you know? Because nobody likes me and nobody knows me and nobody would probably even notice I was gone, surely not my mom because she's never even home. And then there's Jared who's using me for his car insurance and-" Evan takes a breath for the first time in his ramble. Connor holds onto the desk tightly, closes his eyes and breaths slowly. He doesn't want to get angry at Evan. "and, I don't know, what if I was dead right now?" 

Connor shrugs. It's not a great response, he knows, sort of, but to Evan is means a bit more. Just another person that didn't care whether he was dead or alive. He sits down on the bed, and tears form in his eyes. Anxiety was just fucking awesome, especially in one on one situations like this. Connor looks back at the boy again, and he scoffs. "What the fuck do you want me to say? Like- I don't even know you, dude." It's not too angry.

Connor isn't too angry yet. His voice is still at an average pace and he has an average tone but he doesn't think Evan thinks the same because he starts to cry more.

"S- sorry." That makes Connor bite down on his lip. He can't hurt him. He can't hurt his room. But he doesn't want Evan to be alone. He saw the scars on his arms and he can't get them out of his head and in some way, he wishes Evan saw he was suffering, too. He wishes Evan looked into his eyes and saw pain and saw he needed somebody, but he didn't. Connor didn't give him the chance to. "A-are you m- mad?" 

"A little bit, _Hansen._ " Evan sniffles, and he looks up at Connor. Connor's eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth is formed into a frown, his hands grabbing tightly at an empty notebook he took from Evan's drawer. But Evan notices Connor is more than just angry. Maybe not sad, but... different? When people are angry, you can see it in their eyes, but in Connor's eyes, all he could see was fear. 

He decides not to comment. But he also decides that from that day out, he's gonna try and calm Connor down when he gets mad. Maybe they can help each other.

 

Evan is sure that he's failing Physics by now.

Ever since he was absent that one day after he _fell_ three weeks ago, he's been completely lost. And they just took a huge test. He's sure he bombed it. Physics was the subject that he had a C in, because he much rather preferred Bio, but he'd taken it in his Sophomore year. 

He slammed his head against his locker when the bell rang to take them to lunch, and much to his surprise, he saw Connor on the other side of his locker when he closed it again. This surprised him a little. Not because Connor hadn't been to his locker before, but because Connor would usually skip after fourth block. "You busy for lunch?"

"N- no- was gonna just- j- just have lunch with-" 

"Me," Jared says, walking into the conversation with a frown on his face. "You hanging around this freak now, Evan? Is he like, holding you hostage?" Connor bites down on the insides of his cheeks, looking down at his feet and shuffling them around. He hadn't gotten angry in school for a few days now. He could keep it up. 

"W- what?! No! He- he's my friend!"

Jared frowns more, staring down at Evan's cast. "Oh, so that's the Connor that signed your cast?" Evan nodded, and Connor was still trying to keep himself in. It was helping that he wasn't being talked to anymore, at the very least. "Okay, well- uh, have fun shooting up the school with psycho boy here."

"What the fuck did you just say?" Connor spits, looking up from his controlled shuffling, and staring Jared blank in the eyes. Evan steps away. He doesn't want to be in the middle of this. Jared chuckles a bit.

"Just a joke, calm down, buddy."

Connor laughs in disbelief, grabbing Jared by the collar of his jacket and pounding him against the lockers hard. "I'm not your fucking buddy, you piece of shit." Jared swallows thickly, nodding with wide eyes, feet dangling from the floor. He couldn't believe Connor was actually this strong. "Apologize or we'll be here all day." There was a crowd of some students starting to form around them. Connor hated that. He couldn't stand having that kind of attention on him.

Evan is still standing to the side, pulling on his collar and scared to say anything. 

"Apologize!" Connor yells, hitting him against the lockers again. He wants to stop. Fuck, he wants to let go of him and apologize himself but he can't. He can't make himself apologize, he can't let go, something inside him wants to hurt him. Even if all he did was make a joke at his expense. He takes Jared's glasses off of his face, throws them on the floor and steps on them so there's no way they can be repaired.

"I'm sorry!" Jared cries back, his eyes closed and his mouth pushed into a tight line.

Evan is scared. Not of Connor, but because of him. He wants to believe he's broken. He wants to believe Connor just needs to be helped, but he doesn't know if that's it. Evan is not very good at reading cues, so talking would help. Connor doesn't strike him as the talking type.

"Good, now fucking go, I have better things to do," he spits it into Jared's face, and he lets him go. Jared scrambles, not bothering to pick up his glasses and he pushes through the crowd of students.

There comes the regret.

Connor's breathing begins to become heavier, his hands previously at his sides are now at his hair, pulling. He runs through the crowd of students, too, the opposite way. Then it's just Evan, who has to make a choice.

Help Jared.

Help Connor.

He picks the latter. He runs after Connor, shouting his name as the boy runs outside and takes a seat on the concrete. Evan hears his breathing. He thinks he knows what's going on; panic attack.

Connor hears everything. He hears every car pass the school, he hears the zipper of his jacket touch the wall behind him, he hears his breathing getting heavier and heavier and heavier and he can hear Evan's harsh shoe prints in the gravel. He grabs his head, shutting his ears with his hands, and he runs further away from Evan. It's hell, everything hurts and everything goes too slow and too fast at the same time. But he needs to get this jacket off, and he can't let Evan see him.

He comes to an open field on school grounds used for soccer during PE classes, but there's nobody there, so Connor sits. He takes off his jacket and he sits in the grass, rocking around carefully. _Why did you do that? Why did you let Evan see you like that? You said you wouldn't hurt anybody anymore._ A loud scream comes from Connor's mouth, echoing through the empty space in front of him.

Evan sits a distance away. He wants to help. So bad. But there's a reason Connor ran further away from him, and he doesn't want him to get mad again. And definitely not at him.

"Why can't you fucking be normal?!" Connor shouts at himself, scratching at the faint marks on his arms. He's stopped cutting there; it was too visible. He could always hide his thighs, make his mom think he's not doing it anymore, but he can't always hide his arms. It doesn't mean they're not fucked up though. From shoulder to wrist, he's sprawled in scars, crisscrossed, in lines, some deeper than others. The scratching makes his whole arm red, irritates it to no point.

Evan sees him scratching.

He runs toward him.

Connor hears him running, and his eyes widen, quickly pulling his jacket back on no matter how much he hates his fucking zipper. He can't have Evan see. He'll look weak. He's not weak. "Connor!" He shouts, approaching quickly and sitting down with him in the grass. Connor doesn't look up, he holds his head in between his hands. His breathing doesn't calm down, especially not when he notices that Evan is trying to touch him. 

"Get the fuck off!" He screeches when he sees Evan's hand near his shoulder, scooting away, eyes wide and face red with anger. Evan sees it again. Something different. It's not just anger. "Leave! Fucking leave right now!"

"N- no- I can- I can help," Evan says slowly, with as little possible stuttering. _He's not mad at you. He's just mad. It's okay. He doesn't hate you. He doesn't hate you._ He has to repeat it five times in his head to believe it.

"No, you can't!" Connor breaths become more rapid, and he starts to rock back and forth again, and again, and he gets scared, because it all gets loud again and he doesn't want to hurt anymore. He doesn't want to hurt Evan. Hurting people is bad. 

"I- I- saw you- you scratching."

_Fuck._

"I don't fucking care! Get away from me, you're making it worse!"

 

It's needless to say that Connor avoided Evan for days after it happened.

_I'm so sorry Connor. I didn't mean to make it worse._

Connor never replied to the text sent. It had been five days. 

_Please tell me if you need time alone I won't text anymore I just need to know you're okay and that you don't hate me._

_i dont hate you._

He replied to it exactly a week after the incident. Evan hadn't seen Connor at school, and figured he was skipping again, especially since the text was sent during school hours. Evan didn't believe was he read, but he didn't want to bother Connor anymore.

_Are you okay?_

_im fine pay attention to your class or whtver_

Fine almost never means okay. When you say you're fine, it usually means _numb._ At least that's what it means for Evan. He says he's fine when he doesn't feel. But he's still confused. What happened that day? What happened to Connor?

_Don't lie to me, please._

_alright, evan hansen, want the truth?_

He holds up his hand for the teacher before replying, with his finger pointing the way of the door, and the teacher nods. He leaves for the bathroom and prepares for the next text/

_Yes._

_the truth is that i dont want friends. i cant handle friends. i hurt people too much and i regretit and im fucking sorry for hurting your friend or whatever. i cant be your friend evan. youll just get hurt._

_I don't think so._

_what the fuck do you mean_

_I mean, we can help each other get okay again. And I'll try to understand you're not mad at me and you're just mad. I want to be your friend. I see in you what I see in myself, too._

_which is?_

_Shame. Regret. Pain. Something like that._

_if i hurt you, leave_  
_im talking physically, or emotionally or whatver if i ever hurt you, leave and dont come back to me_

_Okay._

_go back to class_

_Okay_

_and evan?_  
_im sorry about telling you you made it worse it wasnt your fault_

_I'll see you around, Murphy._

_you too, tree fetishist_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY !
> 
> im feelinf real good about this aNgsTY TrAin  
> also pls forgive me  
> this angst is Nothing compared to what i have in store


	5. connor is actually good at painting (confirmed by evan hansen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You can like, have it, or whatever."
> 
> Evan didn't realize it before, but Connor talks differently. Like he's happier. Maybe happier was the wrong word, like he's more light-hearted. Like he has actual emotions and they're not just negative ones.

"Connor?" Evan asked carefully, sitting at the lunch table with his friend, who was bouncing his knee. Connor looked up, eyes wide in surprise and nods. "I- I- I've never seen you eat." He, himself, took a bite of his peanut butter sandwich, and Connor fiddled with his fingers, nodding. That was concerning.

"It's- it's not a big deal. I just don't get hungry at lunch time anymore." Evan wanted to believe it, but it somehow still seemed like a lie to him. So, he frowned. "My- uh- Zoe, she used to have like, an eating disorder. And I'm competitive. Horrible mix, anyway, I basically fueled her not eating by not eating and now I can't seem to get hunger cues back." He chuckles a little, despite knowing that there's nothing funny about anything.

Evan looked down at his sandwich, and then back at Connor. "W- want to f- finish my sandwich?" He smiles with his mouth half full, and holds the sandwich out. Connor smiles, but pulls Evan's hand back, realizing that's the first time he's had a nice offer in months. "Let me rephrase," Connor is surprised my his sudden confidence, " _W- will you_ finish my- my sandwich?" He holds it back out, and Connor grunts, defeated. He takes the bread lathered with peanut butter, and takes a bite.

Connor doesn't eat much. It's clear when looking at his body that he doesn't, but when he starts eating, he always wants more. Which is why he ends up eating mostly nothing and then eating over a thousand calories in snacks after dinner time. "You don't have herpes, right?"

Evan's eyes widen, choking on the milk he had in his mouth, shaking his head heavily. Connor laughs, taking another bite. This is nice.

He thinks about how he can sit in the school cafeteria for once in his life and have a good time. The only friends he ever had used him for weed, and other than those people, he had fuckbuddies that _he_ used for drugs. "Thanks, Evan." Evan looks up, redness on his cheek, and he fumbles with the collar of his shirt likes always. He shoots a tiny smile in his direction, and nods. "But, now I want more food, so, stay here while I grab myself at least five bags of chips."

Evan wants to protest, just so that Connor wouldn't leave him alone at this gigantic lunch table, but he can't make himself, so he nods again. The only thing he can do to not look like a total fucking loser is go on his phone. So, he texts Jared. He hadn't spoken to him in about nine days, he couldn't make himself after everything that happened.

 

_Hey_

_hi hansen u gonna get your boyfriend to scare me again?_

_I'm sorry Jared. He didn't mean to do it, and he's not my boyfriend._

_whatever have fun being his best friend instead of mine_

 

He stopped responding after that, mostly because he didn't know how to respond but also because Connor was currently running at Evan with _five, six seven,_ bags of snack sized chips. There's a wide smile on his face and it's the brightest one Evan has ever seen from him, and it makes him smile back just as bright. "I got every single flavor they had!" Evan laughs, watching as their lunch table becomes a blanket of all sorts of chips.

Evan reaches for the salt and vinegar one, and Connor smacks his hand away, making Evan pout in fake disappointment. "That's my favorite, polo boy. Here, have this one," Connor laughs, tossing him the Cheetos, and Evan smiled brightly, gladly opening the bag. "You really like those, huh?"

"They're my favorite!" He stuffs his face with the cheese dusted corn chips, and Connor's smile grows even wider. He thinks back to when he was a kid, and his mother put him in a socialization class. They explained friends are supposed to make you happy, and Connor couldn't say he was quite that far yet, but Evan makes him smile. 

That's a start.

 

Connor is almost afraid of what will happen today.

He decided to ride the day out so that Evan could come over to his house and honestly, that was terrifying. Evan had seen him try hurt somebody once, but he had never seen him completely fucked up. He was scared that he would get into a fight with his dad, and then end up locking himself in his room while Evan waited with his parents downstairs. He, for obvious reasons, did not want that.

Evan was excited to meet them, though, and to see Connor's house. After all, the only times they had been together was in the hospital and a day after, Evan's house. "You don't have to come if you don't want to, you know? I could drop you off at your house right now and you could still say no, I wouldn't be upset or anything-"

"I- I- thought rambling was m- my thing." Connor laughs, taken aback by the first thing coming out of this boy's mouth that wasn't completely nice, "Oh, god, that was so rude, I'm super sorry, I didn't mean it that way!"

Connor gripped the steering wheel, smile fading, "You ruined it, Hansen."

Evan has come to know that Connor calls him Hansen when he's a little pissed off, but it's also playful. He thinks it's funny. "I- sorry- I mean- uh-" He searched for words to say, confused and chuckling awkwardly, "I'll try to- to not do i- it again?"

"Perfect." Connor finishes the ride home with a smug smile on his face, and Evan finishes the ride home with continuously red cheeks. 

He doesn't know what he expected, but when they get to his house, it's bigger than pictured. Scary and intimidating, too, to be realistic. Evan lives in something that warily resembles a house and theirs could almost classify as a mansion. It just seems so unlike Connor, and so unlike everything associated with him. Evan realized he was thinking a mean thing, basically implying Connor acted like a poor person, and he stopped thinking and mentally scolds himself.

"So, welcome to the shit show that are the Murphys." Connor opens the door, and the inside looks even better than the outside. Connor notices the couch he pushed over weeks ago is back on its' feet and the coffee table he broke was replaced. Guess he couldn't complain. Evan sees Zoe first, and he greets her with red cheeks. He'd had a crush on Zoe last year, but because it wasn't motivated by anything, it just kind of faded away. Didn't change that Evan constantly thought about it, though. 

"My room's just up the stairs, don't be too shocked when you see it, okay?" Connor bites down on his lip. He had been planning for Evan to come over only a day before today, so his room was still a fucking mess. He cleaned some of it, but he couldn't magically repair the dents in his wall, or his bookshelves that fell on the floor because of it. He just hoped Evan wouldn't be too upset with him.

They made it into the only room in the house without a lock, and when Evan noticed it had been removed, he instantly starts to wonder. The room itself, might be the explanation. He had a dresser that was sort of in the middle of the room, which, well, confused the fuck out of him. He had a raised queen sized bed pushed against the wall, with pillows tucked into the corner and two blankets sprawled over it. Right next to it was a decorative step table with two shelves on it, one containing four water cups filled to the brim with colored water, and the other containing an insane amount of all types of paint. 

It takes him a while to even notice that there's three dents in the wall and that the bookshelves are crooked and there's a countless amount of books thrown everywhere in the room. He noticed a spot of blood on his white lining, but he doesn't say a word, and instead explores every corner. Connor stands in the doorway with his hand on the back of his neck, clearly ashamed of the mess he managed to create. "I- I- like this," Evan says, pointing at Connor's desk, which reveals a paper sheet with a gouache of a bunch of stretched out cats floating around each other. 

Connor approaches shamefully, sees the drawing out on his desk, and quickly takes it out of Evan's sight. He's always been ashamed of being interested in art, mostly because Larry said it made him a fag. "It's nothing, it's stupid, ha." Evan taken a seat on his bed, digging his back into the pillows, which were way more comfortable than his stiff bed at home. Connor must sleep like an angel.

"I think- that- that- if you like t- to draw, you should- you should just do it, you know? It- it doesn't matter what others say." Connor nods, and takes a seat next to Evan, smiling softly. "I liked it, though."

"I know- I- I mean, I'll keep doing it no matter what, I just don't want others to see, you know? Kinda embarrassing."

"I don't think being- being talented i- is embarrassing at a- all." Connor bites back another smile, because he's smiled too much today already. He didn't wanna jinx anything, terrified of getting into a fight.

Connor decides that maybe he can trust Evan Hansen, and he gets up from the bed, and walks over to the canvases, turned around, against his bed. "I have two things that I'm really proud of that are a little unconventional, so, don't laugh at me, okay?" He's afraid he'll still get laughed at. Even though it's just Evan. And Evan would never laugh at him, right?

He turns the first one around, it comes to his waist, and it's filled with pressed flowers, names written in French above them all. "I made this a little after I met you. What can I say? You sucked me into the nature-loving hole." The back of the canvas was decorated fully with leaf stamps. Fucking _leaf stamps._ Evan can't do anything but smile, reaching his hands out so he can see the canvas closer. 

"I never saw you- you as t- the type t- to do something like- like this." Connor blushes, and he rubs the back of his neck again, looking down at the floor. He's still ashamed of his fucking room, but this makes it a bit better.

"You can like, have it, or whatever."

Evan didn't realize it before, but Connor talks differently. Like he's happier. Maybe happier was the wrong word, like he's more light-hearted. Like he has actual emotions and they're not just negative ones. But the words he said just now, Evan's not a fan of. The word 'whatever' had always been a word he strongly disliked. "Thank you," Evan says slowly, putting it down next to him.

Connor pulled the second one out of the holder, it's a lot smaller, a square size that just about the size of Connor's upper torso. It's made from... silly bands? Completely made from silly bands, it's a self-portrait made from fucking silly bands. Evan laughs a little, out of endearment, but he realizes it comes out wrong when Connor's entire face goes red. "I- I- meant it in a- in a good way!"

Connor scoffs, putting the painting away and sitting against the wall of his room, nostrils flared. "I knew I couldn't trust you, either," Connor spits out. 

"What?"

"You're just like everybody else, aren't you?" He raises his voice, red eyes now staring up at Evan, "You don't give a fuck!" Evan shakes his head, and tears start to well in his eyes, panicking completely. He didn't want to be yelled at. He didn't mean it in a bad way. "Fuck you!"

"C- Connor- no- I- I- liked it! I- laughed- it was- it was because I thought the- the idea was silly- endearing- I liked it, Connor!" Evan begs, quickly scrambling to be in front of Connor on the floor, who grips tightly at his pants, heavy breaths escaping his lips. "You can trust me."

"I can't trust anybody," He whispers softly, and his tone goes from anger to sadness. It's the emotion Evan has never seen in Connor. He had never seen him sad, never heard him sad. Not sad like others are. His sad is being mad. "I thought you were different."

He cries.

Tears begin to form in Connor's eyes.

Connor is immediately confused, wiping them away quickly, shaking his head. _I can't let myself be like this._ Evan slides over next to him, softly placing a hand on his shoulder. For once, Connor doesn't push it away. "I- I- I'm sorry," Evan stutters out, noticing that Connor has started to sob. "I'm here."

"Evan, I need to be alone," Connor says softly, tears running down his cheeks, "No, I want to be. I don't- I can't let you see me like this." Evan bites down on the inside of his cheek. 

"I wanna be here for you," he whispers back.

"I'm scared I'll get angry again, Evan. And when I'm at home, I- I- can't stop it. Please, go to the bathroom or go downstairs, anywhere. It's not safe here with me."

"Connor, I- I- I can't leave you like this. I'm worried you're not gonna be safe."

"I'll text you if that happens. Even if you stick around in the house."

Evan starts to cry a little, too, but wipes it away. He needs to be stronger than Connor, for Connor. "Is it okay if I stay with you?"

Connor shakes his head, tears in his eyes, and snot drooping from his nose. "I'm dangerous, Evan."

Evan starts to get up. He knows he's being protected. He likes that Connor is trying. But, no progress has really been made in either of them. Connor seems to have some sense of emotion back, though, which is good. "I'll be outside of the door. Text me."

Connor nods before Evan disappears and shuts the door. That's when he really starts to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO  
> DID I WRITE THREE CHAPTERS IN 1 DAY BC I THINK I DID?? WHAT?? WHO IS THIS NEW PRODUCTIVE LADY CERTAINLY NOT ME !


	6. mental problems previously ignored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "C- Connor, are- are you okay?" He asks it as carefully as he can, he doesn't want to enrage him. Doesn't want to hurt him.
> 
> Connor shifts uncomfortable at the question, and he stares down. Evan doesn't need an answer after that. Connor gives him one anyway. "I don't know." It might be the realest thing Connor has ever told him. "I don't think so, Evan."

_ev u can come in now_

_You sure?_

_come in here b4 i change my mind hansen_  
_also srry for the mess_

Evan smiles at his phone, sitting outside of Connor's room on the hardwood floors for nearly two hours hadn't been particularly exciting, but he was glad Connor was okay. He'd heard him crying for the first half an hour, shouting and thrashing the room for the next half an hour, and talking to himself quietly for the remainder of time. He felt bad listening to it, so he put in earbuds and listened to music. It didn't drown everything out. 

He enters the room, and Connor is now sitting against his dresser, knees pulled to his chest and jacket shrugged on as if it were off before Evan came in. The room is more of a mess than it was before. But Evan notes, most importantly, that there's dozens of little pieces of silly bands on the floor. He tries his best not to look at Connor for too long, but he can't help it, because he was right. Connor is broken, too.

"S- sorry fo- for making y- you not like the- the portrait," he whispers, sitting down next to Connor. His eyes are red from crying and Evan is pretty sure he can see a red hand print on the boy's cheek. _Did he slap himself?_

Connor shakes his head, sniffling and looking next to him. "It's not your fault." He's back to being cold. The words have a light undertone to them, but Evan knows Connor has shut himself off again. "My dad's gonna be home in half an hour. You're staying for dinner, right?" Evan nods.

There isn't much talking that goes back and forth between the two. All Connor knows is that he hates crying and all Evan knows is that he wishes he knew what was wrong with Connor. Connor shies away from any touch Evan tries to engage, and Evan respects it. It hurts him a little, sure, but he respects it. "C- Connor, are- are you okay?" He asks it as carefully as he can, he doesn't want to enrage him. Doesn't want to hurt him.

Connor shifts uncomfortable at the question, and he stares down. Evan doesn't need an answer after that. Connor gives him one anyway. "I don't know." It might be the realest thing Connor has ever told him. "I don't think so, Evan."

"H- Have you t- told your pa- parents?" 

"Have I? Oh, wow! I never thought about doing that!" He remarks sarcastically, grunting and moving a little further from Evan. 

_Great job, Evan. Now he fucking hates you_

"God, stop being so fucking sensitive. I'm not mad at _you,_ Hansen." It was supposed to help, Evan knows it was, and he appreciates the effort, but it doesn't help. All it does is scare him more. Too sensitive. He's too fucking sensitive and it's annoying and Connor doesn't want to be his friend anymore and- 

His thought is interrupted by the door opening downstairs. That's it, then? Now, he's going to have dinner with all of the Murphys. From Cynthia to Zoe. Fuck. Both of the boys get up simultaneously, and Evan almost stumbles on the books on the floor on his way out. 

He didn't prepare himself for this enough. He's so fucking afraid that Larry is gonna think he's an asshat and Cynthia is gonna think he's a mess and Zoe, well, he already knows Zoe doesn't think anything special of him. He walks down the stairs behind Connor, who is slow and careful, greeting his father with nothing but a wave of his hand.

 

Dinner with the Murphys is... uneventful.

Evan introduces himself, but stays quiet during the meal, as does everybody else except for Cynthia. She asks how their school was, she tells Evan that everything they had was kosher, because Connor had told them he was Jewish beforehand. Cynthia had gone so far as to buy fake pork for him to eat, and Evan really liked that. Of course, she's not an expert, so Evan does ask a question or two.

"W- was the pot e- ever used for- for dairy?" Cynthia had shaken her head proudly, and pulling up her tablet to display a website showing all the rules of kosher meals. Evan smiled at that too, and he had thanked her immediately.

Connor almost bursts once, but Evan glanced over at him and whispered, "It's okay," quietly. Connor still scraped his fork on the bottom of the table, but at least he didn't yell. Mission accomplished? At least Evan learned Larry was an asshole, because instead of being glad that his kid made a friend, he joked about it.

When the dinner is finished, Evan has to leave.

Of course, he would have been more than happy to stay longer, but his mother came home early for once, and she wanted to spend time with him. He thought that was nice. He got his ride home from Connor, and waved him off quickly.

"I- I'll see you- you at school?" It was more of a question than a statement, and Connor laughed a little before nodding. 

"Can't guarantee it!"

 

Evan shouldn't be surprised when Connor doesn't show up for school the next day, but he is.

From what he had noticed, he'd been pretty proactive in trying not to skip, but that had changed. Jared forgave Evan, though, so at least Evan wasn't going to be alone for lunchtime. 

_hey tree man im sick 2day not skipping just thought id make u feel proud_

_What?? How can you get sick in the summer?? Please eat well and get lots of rest ):_

_will do_  
_thnx for caring_

_Of course (:_

"Still friends with the school shooter?" Jared comes up from behind Evan, laughing, and Evan bites down on his lip so that he wouldn't talk back at him. He hates being angry at people, or thinking bad about them in general. 

Instead of thinking bad thoughts, Evan turns around to Jared, small frown on his lips. "H- he's a good guy, y- you know?" He closes his locker swiftly, and he ignores Jared's strange looks.

"Holy shit, did you fuck him?"

"What?! No! Why- why would you- why would y- you even say that?!" Evan shouted, embarrassed and shrinking into himself. Jared laughs again, slapping Evan on the shoulder, as if to congratulate him. Evan's shouting causes a little bit of uproar, particularly a few kids looking in their general direction.

"Did he brainwash you, Hansen? You're talking about the guy that once sent a kid to the hospital." As soon as Jared says it, Evan cocks his head to the side. He didn't know that happened; much less did he believe it. If it did happen, Connor probably still felt terrible abut it. "Yeah, dude. You're playing with fire, here. You could be next."

Evan holds up his cast and chuckles a little, "B- been th- there." He hears the bell to first block ring, and he pouts at Jared, mostly because that means class is now, but also because it means he needs to focus on things. He didn't want to sit in his Calculus class any longer than he had to. "I- I'll see you next block." And off he goes. 

 

Connor is not sick.

Okay, in a way, maybe he is, but not sick in the way Evan thinks. His hands are clammy and his eyes are red, but that's just the weed showing. He hadn't smoked much since meeting Polo Boy, only when things got really bad. Today was one of those days. He lay in bed, dresser against the door, staring up at the ceiling, naked aside from his boxer shorts.

And today, even getting high doesn't calm him. All it does is make everything slow down and become a little bit more acceptable. Aside from that, he kind of wants to die. He hadn't self-harmed in nearly three weeks, and relapsed the night Evan left his house. He felt shitty about it. He felt like he failed Evan; like he doesn't deserve him anymore. 

His mother had asked him if he was okay, to which he replied weakly. 

When he texts Evan, he feels terrible for lying, but he can't tell him the truth. Connor has been trying for too long, too hard, to be a completely closed book to suddenly open up. He couldn't allow himself to spill over the edges, it would make him weak again. Like he used to be, and he's long decided to never go back to that. 

His eyes close and open frequently, he stretches his arms out with a marker in hand and he draws over his arms, like always. They're covered in flowers soon, in flowers and dozens of emoticons and symbols. "Why did I cry..?" He whispers out softly, his eyes watered, this time not from emotions. "I hadn't cried in... nearly ten years? Why did I cry?"

"I want Evan to like me." His voice is low, quiet, and it doesn't change when he takes another hit. "I wanted somebody to like me. He laughed at me." When he said the words, he doesn't get angry. The drugs are too worked in for him to get angry at anything. Instead, he stand up from his spot, takes one more hit, and sits down at his desk. "He laughed at me and it reminded me that nobody loves me."

Well, that sucks, now doesn't it?

Even after trying to change, trying to cope, trying so fucking hard to be okay, nobody loves him- no, nobody even _likes_ him. He doesn't fucking know why. He doesn't know why Evan still doesn't like him. Even after changing. After acting good for him, showing him what he really likes. Showing him his art.

Opening up was terrifying.

But, he figures it might be the only thing he can do. It might be the only way to get people to not fuck him over. It might be the only way to get Evan to still approve of him as a person. 

He writes it down in big letters on his desk:

_Open up. Please, open up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact about me  
> i can only write well enough when i get validation  
> so vaLIdAtE mE


	7. 1st of all u tried to kys three months ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _r u okay?_
> 
>  
> 
> It's Connor. Of course.
> 
>  
> 
> _Yeah! Why wouldn't I be? :)_
> 
>  
> 
> _1st of all u tried to kys three months ago_

It takes Connor longer than expected.

He came back to school two days after he first stopped coming, and Evan was more than excited to see him. He filled him in on everything that had happened, which was practically nothing. He told Connor about his session with Dr. Sherman, and Connor had considered asking his dad for therapy again, but gave up on the thought shortly after thinking of it. He closed himself of to Evan more, getting more angry at him more frequently, hating himself more for it.

But Evan dealt with everything he did. He tried to calm him down when he got angry, and even when Connor had pushed him to the ground, Evan still ran after him, trying to help. Connor tried doing the same for Evan. Whenever he'd start hyperventilating or when he noticed he started rambling or stuttering more, he'd tell him to slow down, to take a second. That was what would help him. He was sure that he would be able to open up to Evan soon enough.

He wasn't ready even after two months of his initial staying home. He wasn't ready even when his mother sat down with him and asked about his self-harming. He wasn't fucking ready to be open to another person. Not when he'd worked so hard to have this shell around him. To protect him from being what he really was, _broken._ Speaking of broken things, a week after Connor came back to school, Evan had gotten his cast off.

He, of course, kept the cast on his dresser, with Connor's name pointing to his bed. That had made Connor smile for the first time in a while, and the second thing that made him laugh was Evan's tan line. His forearm, excluding his fingers, was completely white. Connor didn't stop laughing for minutes, and teased Evan for it constantly.

But, Connor figured if he wasn't ready to tell Evan now, he would just force himself to.

"Hey, Polo Boy," Connor teases, approaching Evan at his locker. Jared came running, too, and Connor felt a fuck ton of shame rise in him. "Listen, I need you to come over after school today, yeah? I gotta talk to you about something." 

"Is this some kind of sex confession? Am I interrupting something?" Jared laughs, leaning against Evan's locker. Connor gives him a polite smile, something he's forced himself to pick up whenever he's getting angry in front of Evan. Which was a lot. "Anyway, sorry, psycho boy. Evan's gonna have to hang with me today. My mom's giving up on paying for my car insurance because she thinks we're not friends anymore."

Connor keeps smiling, but he digs his nails into his arm under his jacket, keeping everything in. He didn't need this now.

"I- I-"

"Ev, this is- it's kind of important," Connor whispers, his hand on the back of his neck. Jared laughs, and Evan stares at both of them with wide eyes, clearly panicked. 

"Come on! He just wants to take you home to like, do some weird sex thing!" Connor closes his eyes, looking down and flaring his nostrils. Evan notices, and wants to help, so bad, but he's getting scared. His breathing gets heavier, and he watches as Connor approaches Jared.

"Don't make me break your glasses, _again._ " 

It's then that Connor notices Evan has sank to the floor with his hands grabbing his arms tightly. He sinks down next to him, staring up at Jared in disapproval. He runs off, and Connor doesn't know if it's because he's afraid or because he's an asshole that doesn't know how to deal with hyperventilating. "It's okay, Ev."

"I- I- don't know w- what to do!" Evan yells, his breathing gets more irregular, hands becoming numb. Everything blinks in and out, Connor's voice does, his heart beat being the only thing that stays present. There's people around them that are gathering, staring at the two, taking videos. 

"Calm down... please?" Connor still isn't good at this. After having seen it about a dozen times, he's still not good at it. "Let's head to the bathroom?" Evan nods, taking Connor's arm and carefully getting himself up. His legs feel heavy, almost numb, when he makes his way to the room right across from his locker. Nobody follows them into the room; but people take their turns calling both of them freaks.

They sit on the floor for nearly ten minutes, Evan trying to regulate his breathing, beginning to cry, and Connor mostly sitting. After a good six minutes, he starts to pace around the room, because he doesn't know how to control Evan. He's different from Evan. He feels stupid trying to help him, because if he does anything wrong, he could possibly fuck it all up.

When Evan feels okay again, he sits on the floor for a few more seconds before getting up and splashing water in his face. He still can't quite move his fingers individually, but he's used to it. "S- sorry," Evan whispers, and Connor shakes his head, standing next to Evan. He carefully reaches for his shoulder, and Evan flinches, but lets him. "I- I- made you miss c- class."

"That's okay. It's not like I would like to go."

It scores him a little laugh, and Connor decides he would much rather have this boy smiling all the time rather than being scared all the time. "I- I- gotta get a n- note from the nurse. A- and then go to- to class," Evan says softly, twiddling with the bottom of his shirt. Connor looks away, nodding. He was looking forward to skipping with Evan today, mostly because he needed to calm down before talking to Evan today after school.

"Yeah, okay." Connor scratches his arm underneath of his jacket, and tries not to act angry because of being sad. An issue that has gotten worse since he cried. "I'll see you at lunch."

 

_can u come over after school? i realized i never got an answer_

_Yeah._

_are u ok? is jared ok?_

_I'm okay. Jared has apologized 80 times for running away while I had a panic attack..._

_tell him im srry for threatening him again?_

_Will do, cone whore_

 

By the time lunch arrives, Connor is terrified.

He's never been this... stressed about talking before. He's never had to tell anybody anything before, and he thinks that telling Evan anything about himself is either useless, or will actually fucking save him from the hell he's in right now. He sits down with Jared and Evan at lunch, something that hadn't happened before. 

"Hey, guys," he speaks carefully. Connor knows he's on edge, and anything at all can set him off and make him fuck up. 

Jared is about to get up, but Evan holds his arm down. "H- hey!" Evan says excitedly, smiling up at him. Connor doesn't know why it annoys him so much, but it does. 

Evan has made a habit of bringing two sandwiches to school, (his favorite, peanut butter and Connor's favorite, veggie and ham) and so he tosses Connor's sandwich over to him. "No Cheetos today?" He asks, and Evan immediately giggles, shaking his head. 

Jared leans into Evan, getting his own food out of his bag, too as the other two start on theirs. "So, what's going on with Connor Murphy's classes?" Jared asks after minutes of silence. Evan is surprised by how awkward things get between him and Connor when he's here.

"Well... I'm passing them all with a weak D. So, that's something, right?" Evan can't stop himself from smiling in endearment. He's proud of Connor, even if it means he's getting shitty grades, at least he's getting passing grades. It's surprisingly better than Evan was doing. He looks down at his hands and fumbles with the bottom of his shirt when he realizes he's failing Physics. "What about you, Hansen?" 

"Y- yeah- I'm doing o- okay," he lies, soft smile on his lips as he takes another bite of his sandwich, trying to drown out the concerned looks on Connor's face. He doesn't want people to know he's slipping, continuously slipping. Of course, Connor is the only one that knows he didn't just fall, he made himself fall, he wanted to fucking die. And he still does. And that's another thing he doesn't want to tell Connor.

When Connor finishes his sandwich, he does what he always does. He thanks Evan for the food, then goes up and buys chips. It's seven bags when Evan brings his own Cheetos, but it's eight bags when he doesn't. Connor always teases Evan about the cheese dust he gets on his mouth, and Evan secretly gets insecure. He doesn't show Connor, though, because that would be quite rude. But this time, while Connor was out to get his food, Evan got a text.

_r u okay?_

It's Connor. Of course.

_Yeah! Why wouldn't I be? :)_

_1st of all u tried to kys three months ago_

_Connor please_

_im sorry u just seem super anxious today we can talk tmrw at my house if that would be better 4 u?_

_Today is fine, don't worry about me :)_

_thats difficult for me, hansen_  
_youve grown on me_

Connor comes back with his arms piled with chips, and he swings the two bags of Cheetos to Evan, who smiles brightly and thanks him.

"Jesus Christ, how do you eat six bags of chips every single day and stay so fucking skinny?" Jared laughs, staring as Connor opens all of the bags, taking one from each bag in a row. "Literally, me looking at that chip is probably making me gain five pounds."

Evan giggles a little, and it makes Connor laugh, too. Maybe Jared wasn't that bad after all? Maybe there was some hope for being friends with this fucking loser? "After I'm done eating, I cut my stomach open and just grab it all out. You should try it."

"Wonderful suggestion, I'll be sure to let you know how it all works out." 

And honestly, Evan feels like he's got two friends. Two friends that tolerate each other and that tolerate him. He feels like he's... part of something. He finally feels like he's part of something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guYs i wanna finisht his fic before i have to go to school (september 6th) sO updates are going to be fast !  
> like 1-2 chapters a day.  
> 3 if im ultra bored  
> lov u all


	8. getting drunk to get emotional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't know if I can." Connor sniffles, and he stares down at the gap between his legs. "I've been closed for so long. You only ever get glimpses of the me I try to hide. I'll hurt you."
> 
> "I don't fucking care." Evan says, and he takes Connor's hand into his own, "I don't fucking care about getting hurt if it means you won't hurt anymore. If it takes me suffering for a bit to get you to stop hurting yourself, to stop hurting others, then I'll fucking take it."

Connor doesn't know how the fuck he's going to do this.

He has Evan is his car, he's headed home, but he has no fucking idea how to do this. He doesn't know what to say or how to think or how to act or why he's even so nervous. Evan noticed way before they got in the car, and he'd tried to assure him that everything was okay and that he didn't need to talk if he didn't want to. But Evan didn't understand. He did have to. All his hope was pinned on this. On telling the boy any of this.

"We're not staying at my house. I wanna show you a place I think you would like," Connor whispers quietly at a red light, and Evan nods. There's nothing he can do that would make Connor feel better until they've talked, so he waits. He's patient even when he thinks Connor is gonna fucking pass out. "You probably know it already. It would be insane to think you don't since it seems like a place you would really like so. If you've been there, that's okay, too and-"

"S- slow down." Evan smiles, staring over at the other boy, who is bouncing his leg while driving and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Connor nods, smiling back, but Evan is unconvinced it's a real smile. "Y- you don't have to f- force yourself t- to talk to me."

"But I do, Hansen! _Fuck!_ I'm not like you, I can't give myself time to be ready. I'm never fucking gonna be ready!" He slams his fists on the steering wheel and Evan's eyes widen, placing his hand on Connor's shoulder on instinct. They're on the road. Evan is afraid of dying. Really fucking afraid of dying. Connor tries to calm down, his breathing heavy and eyes tired. It's like he was up night after night thinking about how he would tell Evan. Evan doesn't know that's true. "Sorry."

 

Okay. Now Connor is really fucking freaking out.

As soon as they arrive to his house, he tells Evan to stay in the car. He runs to the liquor cabinet his parents hold. The dozens of bottles are all dusted, because alcohol isn't allowed in Connor's household anymore. He open up his backpack, and shoves two bottles in. He also brings orange juice and a plastic cup, just in case Evan hates alcohol and needs to make it girly in order to make it taste good. That seems like an Evan thing to do.

He also, just for safe measures, takes a very tiny bit of weed, enough for maybe two blunts, in a Ziploc bag. 

Evan waits in the car, softly humming to himself, checking his phone every now and then. He's genuinely afraid of Connor never coming back because he's so scared. He'd never seen Connor so afraid of anything. He thought to himself what it could be about, and the only thing popping into his mind was a love confession. But Connor would never do something like that, so he's back to square one.

Mid thought, Evan is interrupted by Connor getting back into the car. He puts his backpack in front of Evan's feet on the floor, and Evan frowns when he notices it's heavy. _Oh my god, he's gonna kill me isn't it? Those are like, murder weapons and he's gonna kill me. Fuck, that' why he was so nervous. He was planning a murder and-_ He stops himself. Because that's... ridiculous. 

"W- where are we- we going?"

"The abandoned orchard." _Perfect place the murder somebody._

"Why?"

"Because I fucking said so, Hansen!" The shouting makes Evan flinch, but he lets his tears following that go unnoticed. He didn't need Connor to get more angry, he was under enough stress. Evan doesn't take it personally. It's a thing he's gotten used to doing around Connor. "Sorry." He drives off to the orchard with sweaty hands and a tapping knee and with Evan holding back tears.

When they arrive, Evan is immediately hesitant on jumping the fence to get to the other side, but with Connor's persuasion, he does it. And also because he thinks the orchard looks absolutely beautiful. "I- it's beautiful here," Evan whispers, staring at Connor, who had taken a spot on the field, now surrounded by two bottles of booze, orange juice and a plastic cup. Evan's eyes widen at the sight. "Wh- why is this here?"

"Listen, Evan," he stands up, taking Evan's hands, "I really fucking want to tell you something. But I can only tell you if I'm... not fully there." Evan frowns. Connor sits both of them down across from each other. He's the first one to take one of the bottles and take a swig, taking a heavy breath after doing so. "I brought orange juice because... I figured you didn't like alcohol?"

"That's right," Evan whispers, and Connor takes the plastic cup from the floor, pouring in some strawberry flavored liquor and pouring in the orange juice. "I- I- th- thank you?" Connor nods, and he holds his bottle up to toast with Evan's plastic cup.

 

It takes thirty-five minutes for Connor to get drunk. It takes Evan thirty. He has no tolerance, and he likes the taste of the drink, so he keeps asking for more. After a while, Evan makes his own drinks, and Connor watches as the boy downs five glasses. It stops when Connor stops drinking, closes both of the bottles, and looks at Evan. "I'm not okay, Evan."

"What do you m _eeaannnn?_ " Evan slurs his words sloppily, and God, Connor thought it was the cutest thing ever. But he couldn't say anything. He needed to talk.

"I saw- I saw that you cut." Connor leans in to Evan, and he moves Evan's sleeve up. He sees the old ones, but also the new ones, and Evan turns red, immediately pulling his sleeve back down. "It's okay." Connor gives him a light smile, but Evan only looks terrified in return. "I do it, too."

"Why are you talking to me about this?"

"Because I want you to help me, Evan!" Evan notes that it's not quite a yell, it's more of a plea. A very desperate, heart-shattering one. "I want- I want- I want somebody to fucking understand anything that's wrong with me and I want- I want to be okay again and I want you to be okay with me yelling all the time and-"

"Slow down." Evan places his hand on Connor's leg, squeezing it carefully. Connor regains his regular breathing pattern, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "Talk, Connor."

"I was eight the first time I tried to kill myself." Evan's eyes widen, his hand falling off of Connor's leg. "And just six months ago, was the most recent time I tried to kill myself. Cool, right? Like, awesome." Evan scoots closer to Connor, carefully resting his hand on his leg again. "I've been in and out of inpatient centers and suicide risk hospital visits since I was just a little kid."

"Connor-"

"And that's not the worst of it, Evan. The worst is that the first time I showed my dad that I self-harmed, he asked me why I hadn't started earlier." Connor's eyes filled with tears, his hands shaking and his legs bouncing under Evan's touch. He reaches for his bottle again, taking another swig. "What kind of fucking father does that?!"

"I- I'm sorry, Connor."

"And- and- despite all of that fucking _shit,_ my dad still refuses to accept any diagnosis I'm given! Anything I'm ever diagnosed with just goes right over him! He thinks I'm a fucking lost cause, Evan!" Evan leans closer to Connor again, pressing his head on his shoulder. Connor is hysterical, and Evan doesn't blame him. "After a suicide attempt, you're required to go see a therapist. For a while, I tried to kill myself just so that I would have to be forced to see a therapist for a month. Do you know how fucking difficult this is for me?!" 

"I don't."

"Nobody fucking does!" He shouts it, his lungs hurt and his face is red, tears streaming down his face. "I just want somebody to fucking help!"

"I will, Connor, I will, I'll help and I'll be right here and I'll-"

"I don't want to hurt you, Evan." Connor's voice get dark, heavy, like all emotion previously overloading him has been grabbed away. "I'm dangerous. I hurt people. I'm not a good person."

"Then I'll help you be a good person, Connor! Fuck, I just want you to fucking be okay and if it takes helping you to do that... then fucking sign me up!" That was the first time Connor had ever heard Evan swear, and he cherished every second of it. "You're a _good fucking person._ You're also sick, Connor. Just like me you should be on medication and, and, in therapy and you should have somebody there to tell you not to cut and to tell you that you're great and-"

Evan stops talking, realizing he's crying, too. Realizing that the two of them are squeezing each other tight. "I'm scared." Connor's voice sounds like it's a frame of glass falling to the floor, breaking into a million pieces. "I'm too scared to get better. I've never known anything but this. I've always been broken."

"It's better," Evan begins, staring at Connor's tear filled eyes with his own, "You can be happy, too, Connor. You deserve to fucking be happy."

"You do, too."

"We're talking about you." Evan doesn't mean for it to be as harsh as it is, because it makes Connor start to sob, again. "You- you're so fucking great. You make me smile. A lot. I look at the flower pressing you made every single day and every single day I smile when I see it. I love that you're my best friend and I want to help you. But, that will only happen if you let me."

"I don't know if I can." Connor sniffles, and he stares down at the gap between his legs. "I've been closed for so long. You only ever get glimpses of the me I try to hide. I'll hurt you."

"I don't fucking care." Evan says, and he takes Connor's hand into his own, "I don't fucking care about getting hurt if it means you won't hurt anymore. If it takes me suffering for a bit to get you to stop hurting yourself, to stop hurting others, then I'll fucking take it."

"You curse a lot when you're drunk," Connor giggles, and Evan nods, blushing a little, now. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I know you don't. That's why I wanna help. Because you hurt people without meaning to and then you get scared because you hurt them. I know you don't want to be like this. This isn't the real you."

"The real me isn't here anymore." 

"Yes, he is. Underneath of your pain, underneath of your suffering, he's waiting to get out. He's waiting, all you have to do is let him out." 

"I don't like the other me, either!" Connor shouts, voice cracking, making him less threatening that he probably meant to be. "I started being angry and I started shouting and fighting and doing drugs because the other me, the me that others saw, is just as bad! He fucking cries at everything and he- he can't even talk to people because he's so afraid to get hurt again! That's not who I want to be!"

"Who hurt you?" 

Connor stops breathing at the question, shaking his head. "Forget I said anything."

"Who hurt you?!"

Connor's eyes fill with more and more tears, his body starting to shake. "Everybody, Evan! Fucking everybody I've ever loved or liked or even tolerated has hurt me! I'm not fucking ready for you to be next!"

He moved away from Evan's touch, and Evan regrets shouting at him immediately. "I won't."

"They all had the same shit excuse, Evan. Don't try and pretend like you want to save me. We both know it's not fucking true."

"Listen to me," Evan says, taking Connor's hands again, grabbing them firmly. "I'm not going anywhere. Unless you force me out of your life by fucking like, moving to Canada, I'm not going anywhere. I want to help you. I want to be your friend. So badly. But I can't do either of those if you keep closing up."

Connor gets out his phone, and he breaths out carefully. Evan stares at him in confusion. 

_evanim sorry i dnot know fi i canbe good again_

Evan looks up from his phone. "Why not?"

_iev beenbad for 2 long_

"I've been bad for really long, too. Doesn't mean I can't be good again."

_tis diffrent. ur a giod person_

"So are you. I wouldn't be your friend if you weren't."

_i hutr evrybody evn my famuly_

"We'll fix that. You'll fix that. You'll get there, I promise." Evan notices a tear dropping on Connor's phone screen.

_wht if i try and it dosnt work?_

"Then, at least you tried. It's all you can do." Evan hesitates before speaking again. "I believe in you."

_yore a good frind_

"So are you."

The next thing Evan knows is Connor has placed them both to be laying down in the grass, Connor snuggled into Evan. "I'm still an angry person, you know? I'll always be aggressive and have a bad temper."

"Those things don't make you a bad person."

"Thank you, tree boy." Evan smiles. They fall asleep in the grass together, surrounded by alcohol and weed and grass and bugs, but most importantly, surrounded by each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heLlo this was HEAVY i hope ur still ok theres more btw ha


	9. connor wants therapy. heidi likes connor.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan Hansen is greeted on the morning of November 14th with a pounding headache, a twirling stomach and a shirt full of puke. Oh, and also Connor Murphy holding him. 
> 
> So, November 14th was just like any other day, truly. Especially when he had to force himself out of Connor's grip to run over to a trash can to throw up. It was all very lovely, especially considering that he had been asleep. In an abandoned orchard. For twelve hours. With Connor.

Evan Hansen is greeted on the morning of November 14th with a pounding headache, a twirling stomach and a shirt full of puke. Oh, and also Connor Murphy holding him. 

So, November 14th was just like any other day, truly. Especially when he had to force himself out of Connor's grip to run over to a trash can to throw up. It was all very lovely, especially considering that he had been asleep. In an abandoned orchard. For twelve hours. With Connor. He panics immediately when he realizes that _Oh my god. Connor just fucking told me about his mental state. I need to help him. I'm not capable of that. Drunk me is a much better me._

He is greeted with Connor's face at the trash can seconds after he threw up in it, and Connor softly pats the boy's back. "Sorry." He doesn't if it's because he made him drink or because he puked on his shirt, but Evan takes the apology. "I know it's early," fucking four in the morning to be exact, "but if you need help curing that hangover, I'm your man?" Evan giggles a little, nodding. "It may or may not involve weed depending on if you want to or not."

"N- no more dr- drugs."

"Then it involves us eating McDonald's and drinking like, four liters of water. And me smoking weed."

Evan decides to give up on the whole 'no weed' front. Because, really, he wants to know so bad what it feels like. He'd heard good things about weed, like amazing things, and he really wanted to try. Despite that, he couldn't risk going to school high in two hours, since he has no idea when the symptoms are supposed to wear off. Spoiler alert: He would still be high if he went to school after smoking.

"We should probably like, get you a new shirt first?" Connor laughs, and Evan looks down, nodding in embarrassment. It's then when Evan notices his phone lit up. Shit.

_Evan??? Where are you?? I got home from my midnight shift and you're still out????_

_Ev I'm worried sick!! Where are you??_

_Please don't be dead_

_Evan if this is some sort of prank I will ground you so hard!_

"M- my mom is- is freaking out," Evan sighs, sitting back down on the grass. Connor sits down next to him, lopsided smile on his face. "I- I- should- should've given h- her an excuse." Connor nods in agreement to that, wrapping an arm tightly around Evan. He flinched a little, making Connor back off quickly. 

"We can go there now and try to make some kind of excuse? You can even pretend like that's my puke or something." He points at Evan's shirt, who flushes red and nods. There's not much light out where they are except for the two street lanterns some meters away from them. 

"S- she thinks I'm dead. H- how could I- I- do that to her? I- I'm the- the worst son e- ever!" Evan quickly moves his head into his hands, which, was not a good idea. Now his head is pounding and he feels like he's going to puke _again. Connor scowls, breathing out and sighing. No anger. Not now. No, thank you. It's not like Evan gets him angry._

That's the thing everybody always got wrong. The people's actions didn't make him angry. Or even sad. It was just that- the fact that he couldn't deal with those fucking emotions like normal people would was incredibly frustrating. It's a cycle of Connor thinking _I don't know how to deal with this emotion somebody else is feeling uh... let's get sad. But being sad makes me angry because I hate being weak, you know? Also this person just displayed sadness to me again how do I fix it? Oh yeah, fucking yell at them. That'll do it._

Connor closes his eyes, counts to ten in his head, and plays with the hem of his jacket. He waits. He sits and waits as Evan talks to himself, crying and freaking out and texting his mom apologizing and Connor tries so hard to tune it out. He tries. He really, really does. But he can't.

"God, why can't you just _stop_ for like five fucking seconds?!" he shouts at Evan, getting up from his seat on the grass, staring at the boy rocking back and forth next to him. He feels so fucking bad. He feels like a fucking monster but it doesn't stop the words from falling out. "You're such a fucking freak, Evan!"

Evan knows he doesn't mean it. He knows. He knows, right? Like, he can't possibly mean it. After what happened, what he said. He can't possibly mean it. Evan can't do anything but cry, looking up at Connor. "Y- you're n- not the- the only broken one," he whimpers, and Connor's eyes widen. "I- I- I- want to get be- better, too."

Connor stops. 

He genuinely stops breathing, his hands shaking as he begins to vacate the orchard. "Whatever," he whispers. There's tears in his eyes. "I don't care." _I care so much please see through my lie. Please see through me lying. I need you. Please. Please. Please._

Connor feels Evan take his arm, tightly grabbing at it. Connor's first instinct is to push him to the ground. His second is to slap him. His third is to relax. He acts only on the third. "I- I'm sorry, C- Connor." Connor shakes his head, roughly wiping his tears away from his eyes, looking down at him. There's a moment in which both of them are silent, staring at each other and wondering: _Is it supposed to be like this?_

"You're not a freak."

"I- I- yeah- o- okay." Connor went back to their spot on the grass, collecting the bottles still out of the bag while Evan waits in front of the fence, ready to hop it. Connor takes the small bag of weed, stuffs it in his back pocket, and he's the first off of the fence.

_Hi mom!! I'm so sorry. I went to Connor's after school and he got really sick (he even puked on my shirt which ew) and I felt like I had to stay. It was a whole big thing and I forgot to text you while it was all happening._  
_I'll be at the house soon to grab some new clothes and then me and Connor are gonna go get breakfast. I love you._

"Honestly, Hansen," Connor says before stepping into the car, laughing and looking down at the boy's polo shirt, "I didn't even know you had another shirt."

"I- I-" _How am I gonna tell him I have only one type of shirt six times? Shit. Shit. Shit._

"Oh, my God. Please tell me you have the same shirt multiple times?" Evan turns bright red, sitting next to Connor, who starts the car immediately. Evan nods, giggling. "You're fucking adorable."

He mutters it. Doesn't stop Evan from hearing it, though.

 

They arrive at Evan's house fifteen minutes later, Evan still red, Connor still smirking a little bit. He feels smug. A little proud, too, for making Evan contentiously blush. However, he promised himself he wouldn't fuck Evan over with things like that, so he only says them when he means them. This time he did. 

Heidi heard the front door open, and she runs towards it, tears in her eyes as she goes to pull Evan into a hug, who quickly pulls out of it. He looks for an excuse, and then points down at the puke all over him. Great. "I've been worried sick. God, Evan, never do that again!" Evan nods, guilt now overtaking his face. "How are you, Connor? Hi, I- I'm Evan's mom. Call me Heidi, please." 

Evan runs upstairs immediately, and Connor wants to follow, but Evan tells him to stay downstairs. He's terrified of Connor seeing him even half naked, because his body has always been his second biggest insecurity. So, Connor is left to talk to Heidi for a while.

Great.

"So, Connor, would you like some tea? Coffee? Water?" 

"Water sounds great right now," Connor laughs, and Heidi gladly pours him a glass, handing it to him. Connor liked the coziness of the house. A lot, actually. It was better than his house, with four people living in it but with six bedrooms. Two of which were converted into personal pleasure rooms for Cynthia. "Evan tells me you work a lot?"

Heidi blushes, looking away and nodding. "I'm a nurse. I- I- don't really control my shifts that much."

Connor doesn't think about what he says next. Maybe it's good that he doesn't? "Is Evan doing okay?" It comes out of his mouth like a fast string of only one word, and Heidi frowns a little. "It's just that- he told me about like, some stuff. And I just wanted to make sure you haven't seen anything weird about him?" 

"What kind of stuff?"

"Just like, that he takes medication and I actually- I have a question?" Connor is careful, taking a sip of his water. Heidi nods, as if to tell him to get on with it already. "When did Evan go into therapy? Like- I know- I know it's none of my business, but," he makes sure Evan isn't coming from the stairs, because this is a conversation he doesn't want Evan to know they're having, "I think I might... need it? And, like, my parents don't want to bring me to therapy- well, Larry doesn't. And I just wanna know what he said to convince you and-"

"Calm down, Connor." Connor chuckles, taking a gulp of his water and asking for another glass. "He was... nine, I think, when he first went. I took him because after his father left, he'd been more withdrawn than usual. Therapist said he was fine and was just a shy kid." Connor pays very close attention to her words. "Then... God, he was like, fourteen? Thirteen, maybe? I took him again because things got worse and his stutter had gotten worse. He'd always had it, but nobody realized it was a side effect of his social anxiety, you know? He got diagnosed shortly after we went the second time, and, well, that's all. He didn't tell me anything. I just knew."

That wasn't quite the answer Connor was searching for. But he didn't want to ask for more, afraid he might come over as an asshole. "Thank you, Heidi."

"Connor?" Heidi asked carefully, and Connor nodded, sipping his water. "I hope your parents will let you go to therapy soon. It hasn't saved Evan, of course, but I think it made him a little better. Hell, you're the first real friend he's made in a long time."

_Of course you don't know he tried to kill himself three months ago, but, yeah. Therapy helped._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i am So sorry this was suckish ):


	10. connor is social. sort of.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yeah, well, I- my friend, Evan," Cynthia nods in acknowledgement, "he really likes- no, loves trees. I thought of the orchard, and he really liked it. Being there made me feel..."
> 
> "Happy?"
> 
> Connor thinks about it. A long time. Two minutes pass before he can answer his mom. "Yeah, I think so."

Connor had officially decided that he would do it.

He would muster up the courage to sit down his entire family, and try to get help. His mother wouldn't need convincing. His father would rather die than send him to therapy. Connor thinks it's a sacrifice that's quite worth it. He doesn't tell Evan about his plans, he keeps them completely secret, in fact. Though, after telling Evan the things he told him, the boy has been insanely concerned for him.

Which, he greatly appreciates. But, it's also kind of annoying because he's just not used to this kind of attention at all. Sometimes Evan texts him too much, and he wants to slam his fucking phone against the wall, but that's okay. It's not Evan's fault, he just wants to protect Connor. Which is probably why Evan somehow got himself invited for Christmas over Christmas break even though he's fucking Jewish.

He was over at the Murphys for dinner, talking about how they still had school through most of Hanukkah, and his mother worked through their Christmas break, so he didn't have anybody to celebrate anything with. Cynthia invited him for dinner on Christmas, which was after Hanukkah, so Evan agreed. Connor knows it's only to keep an eye on him. He doesn't if he absolutely hates Evan for it or if he appreciates him for it. The first was less likely.

Though, until next week, school is still a thing. And Connor has been dreading every second he's been sitting in his stupid fucking classrooms. Especially fucking Physics, which was hell. Actual fucking hell. It was Connor's lowest grade, even though they were all low D's, this class was the one he was on the brink of failing 

"Alright, everybody! Silent, silent!" The teacher, Mr. Williams spoke, his hands waving in the air as students around him fucked around with anything they could. Except for Connor, who was in the back of the room, sitting on the desk, sketching. Like always. Teachers didn't particularly like him, but they all appreciated he wasn't very social. It comes with its' disadvantages, too, though, because Connor needed special treatment so he wouldn't fucking blow up. Sometimes treating him 'right' wouldn't even help, and he'd still be sent to the principal.

The door opens suddenly, and all the eyes in the classroom excluding Connor's, move to the creaking. The teacher frowns, seeing the boy walk up to his desk and begin to fumble with the bottom of his shirt. "Hi- I- I'm the tr- transfer? I- I- was failing AP and then I guess the teacher didn't wanna try to fix it so she sent me to you and here I am! I just- uh- I'm sorry, like, if you didn't know I was coming, it was kinda last minute. I really wanted to go back to Bio for another year because I really, _really_ like Bio- and, oh God, I was rambling, you know, that is just _so_ annoying when people do that!" 

And Connor hears the familiar voice, looking up from his sketchbook and watching as Evan hands Mr. Williams a pink slip of paper, completely red from head to toe. He chuckles a bit, and as Evan looks around the room, he sees everybody staring at him. All the way in the back, he sees Connor waving at him softly. "Connor!" Evan cheers out, walking over to the back of the room. Everybody, and literally everybody, stares at the two in confusion. _Connor Murphy has a friend? And it's Evan Hansen? Evan, the boy who freezes when he has to present and cries when teachers tell him he's wrong? That has to be a joke._ "I- I- didn't know t- this was your class!"

"Uh- Evan?" Mr. Williams asks carefully, and Evan looks back at him, face still red. Connor is still on the desk, now smiling at Evan and how he carefully walks back to the front. "It says here you have a 504, do you have your files specifically for it?" Evan turns even more red, nodding and opening his backpack quickly, shoving the papers in his hands. He apologizes before walking back to Connor's seat. "Alright, it seems like we've got a new student."

Everybody is silent.

They're all looking at Connor and Evan, two polar opposites, sitting next to each other.

They all look at Connor smile, not maliciously for once.

_This has to be a fucking joke._

"Why are you here?" Connor asks, keeping his voice down, still laughing as Evan stumbles over his words and accidentally throws his notebook on the floor. 

"I- I- was failing Physics," Evan says, picking up his notebook and looking down at his thumb, twiddling them softly. "A- after the tree thing- I- I- didn't ca- care anymore." Connor pouts, it's to bring light to the situation, making it playful. Evan admits that it helps, smiling back at Connor.

"I never thought I'd say this, but," Mr. Williams mumbles under his breath, "stop chatting, Murphy."

 

"God, this homework is gonna make me kill myself!" Connor groans, slamming his head on his bed, his Physics homework on his lap. He never does the homework. Ever. All he does are the tests, and as long as he's decent, he can pass, but Mr. Williams has started grading homework the same as pop quizzes. So he's fucking fucked. Zoe is in the grade below him, but is taking the same course, and he could go to her for help.

But that would make him seem really fucking stupid. So, he decides against it.

He lays his homework aside, and he mumbles under his breath about how much he hated Mr. Williams, and then he gets over to the side of his bed, grabbing a medium sized canvas and laying it out on his bed. 

He didn't mean to start drawing the orchard, but he did. It's the only thing his mind had been able to focus on since they slept there together, since they got drunk there together. Since he told Evan he's fucked. All he could draw was a picture perfect afternoon, leading into a not so perfect night. All he could think about was how Evan talked to him, how he wanted him to be okay. It's a little bit of a blur, of course, because he was fucking drunk, but that didn't matter.

It's eight hours later that Connor has a fully finished painting on his bed and paint smeared all over his face. He missed dinner. He missed their daily screaming. Instead, he finally thought about something that made him happy. Smile? Glad to be alive? Connor doesn't know what happiness really feels like, but as long as he's smiling, it's good enough for him. 

He'd forgotten what life could be until he met Evan. Of course, he wasn't just... fixed. But his early, _very early,_ happy childhood memories kept coming back. He brought Evan there despite not having been there for years and years. And he remembered him and his family used to go to the orchard all the time to have picnics. And how his family was before he fucked it all up. And he feels so terrible for fucking it all up.

Before he can let himself go deeper into thought, Cynthia knocks on the door, and Connor's head cocks up. "Come in," he says softly, a smile still on his face, proudly staring down at the painting. Oil paints were his favorite next to gouache. His mother walked into the room, not looking up in order to drop Connor's clean clothes off without him yelling at her. Which is what he would usually do after skipping dinner. "Cynthia?" Connor asks, frowning when his mom doesn't bother to look up. Cynthia's head cocks up now, and she sees her son covered in paint and she sees the huge painting on his bed and she knows it's past midnight but, God, she couldn't be happier to see Connor smile.

"I- is that the orchard, Connor?" She asks, walking up to it, and Connor nods, smiling with green tints on his cheeks. Cynthia begins to tear up, and Connor tries to understand she's just happy. He tries really hard to just understand. "I'd almost forgotten about that place!"

"Yeah, well, I- my friend, Evan," Cynthia nods in acknowledgement, "he really likes- no, loves trees. I thought of the orchard, and he really liked it. Being there made me feel..."

"Happy?"

Connor thinks about it. A long time. Two minutes pass before he can answer his mom. "Yeah, I think so." Cynthia leans over to her son, pulling him into a hug but being careful not to harm the painting. "Thank you."

Cynthia hugs him tighter. "For what, sweetie?"

"For not always hating me."

 

_CONNOR_  
_CONNOR YOU ARE NOT GONNA BELIEVE WHAT JUST FUCKING HAPPENED_  
_EXCUSE MY CURSING BUT IT'S NECESSARY HERE_

_u dyed ur hair blue?_

_What? No! Why would I do that?? I would look horrid!_  
_ANYWAY OHMY GDOD MY DADJUST FUCKING EMAILED ME??_

_what_  
_u mean the dad that left u when u were 7?_

_UUHHHH YEAH THIS IS THE FIRST TIME HES CONTACTED ME SINCE HE LEFT AND IM??? FREAKING OUT???_

_good freaking out or not?_

_I DONT KNOW BUT IM CERTAINLY HYPERVENTILATING_  
_HE ASKED ME HOW SCHOOL IS AND HOW MY STUTTER IS AND HE ASKED IF I COULD VISIT THEM IN COLORADO SOME DAY?_

_uuuhhhhhhhhh do u wanna visit him in colorado?_

_NOT REALLY BUT HOW THEFUCK DO I SAY NO TO THAT WITHOUT SOUNDING LIKE AN ASSHOLE??_

_so all u gotta do is say:_  
_hello this is evan hansen. your son. whom you haven't tried to contact in teN yeArs. school is gr8 my stutter is getting better everyday and i would rather suck a dick than visit you in colorado_

_BUT IWOULDNT SUCK A DICKC CONNOR_

_i understand but it's to imply u would rather go against your Jewish Beliefs than see him_

_Clever._  
_BUT I CANT SEND HIMTHAT CONNOR WHAT THEFUUUCCCCKKKK_

_evanpls talk to heidi about it i am Overwhelmed™_

_AAAHHOKAY SORRY LOVE U BYE ILL TTYL_

_did u give up on grammar omg_  
_lyt_

Evan lays back in his bed, phone now at his side and his leg bouncing. He bites at his nails, spitting them out on the floor and hyperventilating, heading the email over and over and over.

_Hey, Ev!_

_I know I haven't exactly.. been around, but I wanna change that a bit. You have two half siblings now and a step-mom that would love to meet you, too._  
_Anyway, bud! How's school? Is your stutter better? Heidi told me a few years ago you started taking medication, is it working any?  
_ _I'm sorry for my failure to ever reach out to you, I just didn't know if you'd want me to, you know? I hope you're still using this email, otherwise, I'd be sending an empty email right now. Kind of embarrassing._

_Much love,  
Your father, Marc. _

He understands that it's about four in the morning, but he still runs to his mother's room with breathing heavy and fingernails in his mouth. Heidi doesn't need to be touched by Evan to be woken up by his loud breathing, and she shocks up out of bed, sitting up, watching him sit at the edge of her bed. He's trying to stop- just- breathing _so much_ while it feels like he's not breathing at all. She walks over to him, sits in front of him so she's in his field of vision, and gently takes his hands.

"Slow down, Ev." Evan nods, but his breathing doesn't change. His hands start to go numb, until he can't move his fingers anymore. At all. He keeps blinking in and out. Fuck anxiety. "Breathe with me," she says gently, squeezing his hand every time he has to breath in or breath out. 

It fails many, many times. But after a total of ten minutes spent helping her son breathe, Heidi finally gets Evan to be okay again. Evan is red, bright red, because he hadn't come to Heidi while having an anxiety attack since the first day of school. "S- sorry."

"No need to say sorry, baby." Evan flinches when she takes her hands off of his, because he still hasn't regained full control. He hates when his hands go numb the most. Or maybe he hates it a little bit more when he feels like he's gonna fucking black out. "What happened, sweetheart?"

"D-dad mailed me," is how he starts, and he can already feel himself spiraling into a jumble of words, "He a- asked about school and about my stutter a- and he apologized for never talking to me and asked if I wanted to come see him and his wife and their kids in Colorado sometime-" Breath, "I didn't respond yet. I don't know what to do, like, what if I forgive him and we can have an okay relationship, you know? What if- what if everything is okay, you know?" 

"Marc mailed you?" She asks slowly, and Evan nods, tears now coming from his eyes. Why would he ask Heidi about this? Why would he talk to her about this? "It's your decision, Ev. If you want to reestablish a relationship with him, you can."

"B- but- I- I- don't know! I- I- mi- miss having a dad. I do- don't know if he's t- the right one."

"Evan, honey, this is all you. I can give my opinion, but it will shape yours, and this is something you really need to do by yourself," She takes Evan's hands again, after wiping the tears streaming on his cheeks, "That's scary. It's really scary, Ev. But that doesn't mean you can't do it! So, when it gets a little brighter out or maybe even on a completely different day, you can write him an email back." Evan sniffles, his fingers able to grab at things again. "Until then, go to sleep, munchkin. It's way too early."

"C- can I sleep with you?"

Heidi smiles, squeezes his hands and nodding. "Anytime you want to, just crawl in here. No need to ask." 

Evan doesn't sleep again that night, but laying next to his mother with eyes closed is just as good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hEY so i might not update tomorrow!! im v v sorry but im hanging out with sum buds and then im celebrating my sister's bday so i dont think ill have any time but!! ill try a double update on monday?? lov u guys thanks for all the support on this story so far it's making it a lot easier to write when i know people want to read it! :D


	11. evan skips school. sort of.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Fuck you for thinking you can fucking parade into my life and try to fix me! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!" He slams the table over, food on it and all, and Evan goes to the corner of the living room, hands in front of him, covering himself.
> 
> "C- Connor, stop!" Evan cries out, tears in his eyes as his body starts to shake. He watches as Connor throws two chairs on the floor, and as he cries, eyes full of tears, flying everywhere. "Please, stop!" Evan shouts again, and Connor holds his head in between his hands, yelling.
> 
> "I don't need to be fixed!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey this might not be the best bc anxiety wants me to be Dead today so im very sorry if i let you down or messed things up my mind is a little all over the place today and ahh also sorry for no update yesterday!! i was a lil busy and then i had most of the chapter done but Writer's Block is a pain in the fucking ass ):

Evan is awoken that morning by not his mom, not his alarm clock, but his phone ringing in the other room. He groggily rubbed his eyes, swinging his legs off of the bed. He wasn't going to answer it with a call, but a nice text would do. He stretches his arms out, and the ringing stops, so he moves even more slowly.

That is, until he gets another fucking call. He groans, slowly walking over to his own bedroom from his mom's and sighing. "W- who the fuck-" He stops mid sentence when he sees the phone displaying **Connor.** And more importantly, it was lunch time. Evan had unintentionally skipped school. _Great._ He's sure his mother marked him absent, but it didn't help that Connor had no fucking idea at all where he was.

**7 missed calls from Connor**  
**19 unread texts from Connor**

_ev????? u werent at ur locker so i figured u were already in class but now im in physics and ur not here??_  
_i miss u talking to me about trees ):_  
_i hope ur okay youve never missed without telling me_  
_have u even missed this year???_  
_god uurrgggg pls text me_  
_ly_  
_its lunchtime omgyou would never sleep until this late_  
_thats it youve died_  
_im coming over if you dont answer your phone_  
_onw_

And the last text was from fifteen minutes ago which meant Connor is either in front of his house, or is very, very close to his house. Evan, with his blue and white striped pajamas, panics, immediately running into the bathroom. He begins to brush his hair, which doesn't take too much effort, evidently. Just as he begins to start brushing his teeth, he hears the door open with a slam. "Evan!" Connor yells, his breathing heavy as he runs upstairs quickly. Evan panics, eyes wide, closing the bathroom door before Connor could see. But, he did hear it. "Evan?!"

Evan didn't respond. Not because he didn't want to, but because he was fucking brushing his teeth and he was not a huge fan of the taste of toothpaste spit. 

"I'm coming in, please squawk if you're naked!" Evan hears the door unlock, and he stares at it, wondering how the fuck, and why the fuck, Connor knew how to unlock doors. Connor was greeted, much to his surprise, with Evan bending over and spitting his toothpaste out into the sink before smiling back up at him. "Oh, my God." 

"S- sorry- I- I- could - couldn't sleep last night u- until it was too late and I- I- didn't mean to- to oversleep-"

"No, you dork, not that!" Connor laughed, walking up to Evan. "These pajamas!" Evan looked down at his clothes, blush forming on his face and a small smile peaking out. "Mr. Williams asked me where you were and I snapped. Not the best time for me." Connor pouted, taking a seat on the toilet seat, next to Evan standing. "Anyway, you should go downstairs and eat something, because it's noon and you haven't eaten."

"W- wait- are you- are you gonna sk- skip and stay here?" Connor laughs a little, but nods, patting Evan on the back and being the first to walk downstairs. Evan can't complain about Connor staying, in fact, it excites him quite a lot. Connor immediately turns around to Evan when he hears his stomach rumble, and Evan turns red, looking back at him.

Evan makes them both sandwiches; which is the only thing he can successfully make. But, deep down, Evan keeps thinking about the fucking email he got from his father. He couldn't possibly go to visit him all the way in fucking Colorado, right? Connor notices he's distracted multiple times in the conversation, so, he eventually reaches out his hand to touch Evan's arm. 

"It's your dad, isn't it?" Evan looks up, nodding through a bit out of his sandwich and sighing. Connor doesn't particularly have a record of being great at comfort, especially not in sympathetic conversations. "Shit, uh-" Evan slowly moves away from Connor's touch. His eyes are wide and he feels like his head is going to explode because of how much he fucking hated having to make decisions. "Have you decided yet?"

"I- I- haven't."

"You said he left when you were seven, hasn't talked to you in ten years, and then suddenly comes back? What kind of person does that, Ev?" Evan drops his sandwich on his plate. He'd lost his appetite quickly, fists in balls. "Has your mom ever told you why he left you guys?"

"I- I- think he w- was cheating."

Connor snorts. Evan shuts his eyes tightly. "Why do you wanna see him, again?"

"B- because people change!" Evan says loudly, but not the Connor kind of loud, the scared kind of loud. With his voice trembling and arms weakly at his side. Connor swallows thickly, looking down in shame. His body twitched up a little, and Evan noticed. He immediately had to make it better. "I- I- I'm sorry, God, I'm so sorry for y- yelling!" Connor shakes his head softly, looking back up at Evan.

"People change, Evan. But once a cheater, always a cheater." He coughs, and he follows it up with, "I should know." Evan doesn't hear the last part, Connor doesn't know if he's grateful for it or if he hates him for it. "Fuck, I don't know what to say, Evan. I'm not good at this, you know I'm not!" Connor doesn't mean to progressively get more angry while he talks, but he does, and it scares Evan away from the table.

Connor mentally kicks his own ass, and apologizes quickly. "I- I- I- know, b- but- but- I d- don't know what to do!" Evan slowly begins to sit back down at the table. Sure, he's panicking, but does it even matter? He's not fucking having a panic attack so, like, who cares, right? 

"I think, I- I- would say, don't go. But, if you want to go, I'm not gonna stop you." Connor feels himself getting upset, thinking about another thing Evan is probably gonna have and he's not. He hides his sadness. Like always. "How the fuck could you ever want to go back to your father after he cheated on your mom? And left you behind like you were fucking nothing?!" He slams his fists on the table, and Evan steps back, getting up from his seat at the table again. 

"I- I- calm do- down."

"Fuck you!" He shouts again, slamming the table again. At this point, Connor is almost completely gone. His mind is replaced with pure hatred, anger. But deep down, it's all just fucking sadness. His eyes are traced with fear and with sad and with tears and Evan does everything to not be upset. Everything. "Fuck you for thinking you can fucking parade into my life and try to fix me! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!" He slams the table over, food on it and all, and Evan goes to the corner of the living room, hands in front of him, covering himself. 

"C- Connor, stop!" Evan cries out, tears in his eyes as his body starts to shake. He watches as Connor throws two chairs on the floor, and as he cries, eyes full of tears, flying everywhere. "Please, stop!" Evan shouts again, and Connor holds his head in between his hands, yelling.

"I don't need to be fixed!" Connor approaches Evan in the corner, and he pushes him against the wall. Evan starts to cry for real now, tears down his cheek, heart beating out of his chest in fear. He's so fucking afraid. So, so fucking afraid. "Stop trying to fucking fix me!" He holds his fist out above Evan.

Evan doesn't do anything but close his eyes and wait for the hit. He's had it before. It doesn't matter. Not at all. 

And then Connor realizes, that _fuck, this is my only friend. And I care about him. And he doesn't fucking deserve this._ He brings his fist back down, falling to the floor in defeat. There's tears in his eyes, and he can't even count the amount of times that he apologizes. Evan sits next to him on the floor, shaking, even more than Connor is. "I- I'm so-sorry."

"Evan- I- you didn't do anything." Evan doesn't believe him. He must have led Connor on. He must have made him angry because he's a fucking piece of shit that deserves nothing but to die. So, it didn't calm Evan hearing that he did nothing wrong. Evan shakes more, breathing heavy. He still hadn't taken his medication, which could very well be the cause of his thoughts spiraling into self-deprecation every few seconds. "I really- Fuck, I'm sorry, Ev." Connor looks at the mess in front of them, two unfinished sandwiches on the floor, two plates smashes, two chairs across the room, one of which was broken. The table as flipped over against the kitchen counters. Great. "I just keep fucking up, don't I?"

"N- no! You- you're trying!" Evan says, a little too loud, taking Connor's cold hand into his. He's not thinking, but he also doesn't think that really matters at all. Connor scoffs at Evan's words, tears still in his eyes. "Y- you're ge- getting better e- everyday b- b- but there's gonna be b- bad days, too!" He leans himself against Connor softly, most of his body still visibly shaking. 

Connor lets go of Evan's hand, and Evan looks down at them. _Oh, God, it's because my hands are sweaty, isn't it? Fuck! Shit, shit, shit, I never should have even tried to hold his hand. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._ "I don't think I can ever get better, Ev. I'm too far in- like, way too fucking far."

Evan stands up from his spot, shakily, and stops his foot down. "No!" Connor's eyes widen, laughing and putting his hands up in surrender. "Y- you are n- not too far in! Y- you are s- s- strong and great and y- you're trying!"

"Sometimes... Trying isn't good enough." Evan stomped his foot down again on the floor, and Connor laughs again, through his tears. Evan looks ridiculous, honestly, with his frown and his lips pursed and his feet sternly on the ground. This was not an 'Evan' position. 

"F- fuck that!"

"Wow!" Connor says, now standing up next to Evan. "That's the first time I've heard you curse sober." Connor teases Evan, wrapping an arm around him and snorting. Evan's eyes widen, immediately apologizing for saying the word. "I don't care, seriously, when do I not fucking curse? It's in my vocabulary."

Evan was getting a little upset about Connor trying to change the subject, but he knows it's not intentional, so he smiles. "P- point is, Co- Connor, that y- you can get better. I be- believe in you!"

That was enough to make Connor melt into a fucking puddle, smiling brightly at Evan's excited face.

And for once, Connor was the one to reach out for a hug.

 

_evan wanna come hang out after school and play xbox ill beat ur ass_

_You always do, Jared. But, yeah, sure! :)_

_chill can we walk tgthr after school?_

_tgthr?_

_omg ancient hansen, together_

Evan blushes down at his phone, mentally slapping himself for not knowing what it meant. He looks around, and watches Connor approach his locker. No Jared today. Weird, considering he just got his text, but he doesn't think much of it. 

Before Connor can even come close to Evan's locker, there's another guy in front of Evan, and his eyes widen when the boy holds out his hand. Evan looks down at his own hands, which are now sweaty because he was thinking about them being sweaty, which made them sweaty, and now he's stressed and sweaty and _fuck._ So, he doesn't shake the guy's hand. 

"Hi! I'm Brady, I sit behind you in Calc! I love your shirt, by the way." Brady is enthusiastic, to say the least. Evan is a little overwhelmed. Connor is frowning, walking over to the locker. "You're Evan, right? Friends with Jared? I asked him about you and he said that you really liked trees and I- I- got you this." Brady reaches into his backpack, getting out a key chain of an elm tree. Evan takes it with shaky hands, and Connor is now standing behind Evan.

"Is he bothering you?" Connor whispers into Evan's ear, which startles Evan, but makes him shake his head. "Tell me if he does." Connor places his hands on Evan's shoulder, looking at Brady with a big, fake smile on his face.

"T- t- thank you, Brady." 

"I'll see you in class, then!" 

Evan realizes that when Brady leaves, he still has no idea who he is, or why he came up to him in the first place. Great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my current being is a state of watching ben platt sing man up from book of mormon i hope everybody relates


	12. jared just wants to play skyrim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you like him?" Connor pulls away his hands from Zoe, shaking his head violently. It makes Zoe laugh, snatching his hands back. 
> 
> "Zoe! He's so not my type. I like-"
> 
> "In the past you've only liked assholes," Zoe states, and Connor huffs, silently agreeing. "Just saying, he could be good for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> henlo quick note:  
> \- they live in ny but like not near nyc lol
> 
> also: mention of suicide attempt in this chapter, it gets a little more detailed than it did before so thats why theres a warning!  
> brief ed mention

_Good Evening, Marc._

_So, I've been thinking for a while, and I've talked to mom and to some friends and I think that I should visit. Probably not for long, since mom really won't let me go off all the way to Colorado from NY for long. I know you haven't kept contact with me at all since you left, but if you really want to have contact now, I respect that. I think sometime during my winter break is an okay time for me to come? I'm busy on Christmas, going to a friend's house, but I'm free any day after that._

_Thanks for mailing me,_  
_Your son, Evan._

He looks back at the email types out. Evan though it's only a short paragraph long, that email took him hours. He rewrote every line at least eight times. He panicked about sounding too angry abut three times, he had to light a candle on the Hanukkiah once, and had to feed himself once. His eyes were tired by the time it was done, the headache inducing computer screen on full brightness the entire time. Evan takes one last breath before closing his eyes and sending the email. Immediately proceeding that, he closes his laptop and shrieks.

His eyes move around the room to his cast, to Connor's flower pressings, to the plate on his nightstand with one chicken nugget half eaten. Evan gets up from the bed, literally covering his laptop with his bed sheets, and walking out of the door. His phone reads 1 A.M., a time which has become standard for Evan being awake at. Today, the reason was more significant than other days, though. Because today, he had to make sure his father would still be up for him visiting even after not replying for five days. Winter break was about to start, which meant that Hanukkah was almost over, and he'd been lighting all the candles on their Hanukkiah by himself, and reciting the blessing by himself. His mother would always tell him she'd be on time, but she never was. 

Evan didn't want to immediately check his emails, even if it was only eleven at night where Marc lived, it felt wrong to be so hasty. So, instead, he goes to brush his teeth, gets into his pajamas, and he shoves his laptop under his bed. No need for worry. No need to check. No need at all.

Needless to say, Evan spends another entire hour of panicking before falling into something that kind of felt like sleep.

 

Connor really needs therapy.

Like, he needs it. A lot. He's been getting worse at containing himself again after getting a little better, and no matter how much he tried, he couldn't stop. In the past week, he's made two more dents in his wall, that's half as many as he's made since he's had his room. He felt empty a lot of the time, his eyes just blank and bored and irritated. Whenever Evan tried to talk while he was thinking, he would twitch. 

Of course, he can't just go and ask Larry, because there is no doubt in his mind that Larry would say no. All Connor wanted was to bring his family back together after all the terrible thing's he'd done to them, but they won't even let him. Only his mother will. Zoe is still mad at him for, well, everything. And, rightfully so. Connor knows all the things he's done are terrible, and he wants it all to stop, but he doesn't know how to. That's what therapy is for.

"Zoe, can I come in?" Connor asks softly, even though it's past midnight, Zoe softly opens the door. Connor's heart breaks when her eyes are nothing but fear. "Can we talk?" Zoe frowns a little, but sees Connor starting to peel off his nail polish, so she nods. He looks fragile, which is a scary state for Connor to be in.

"What's up?" She asks, whispering so they wouldn't wake their parents. She was already reaching into her cosmetics bag for a bottle of black polish. Connor sat down on her bed, looking down at his socks and then back at her. "You didn't- you didn't do _the thing_ again, right?" Connor chuckles a little, shaking his head. She didn't know how close he was to doing so.

See, two years ago when Connor overdosed, he came into Zoe's room three hours after he had initially done it, and talked to her about what death might be like. Zoe thought he was high, like always, so she just played along, but when he eventually passed out and his mouth started foaming, she figured it was a lot more than that. She called their mom in, and they rushed him to the emergency room, again. 

"I- uh- I-" He coughs, laughing a little at his stutter. Zoe sits down on the bed with him, and removes the polish from her brother's fingers. "I'm sorry about, well, everything. The nights you had to listen to me screaming. The days where I threatened to kill you or hurt you. The times I riled up your eating disorder and when I told you I don't love you. I'm sorry- like, about all the times I've been an asshole." Zoe doesn't react much, biting down on her lip and carefully polishing Connor's nails. It makes her happy, though. And when she look up at Connor, she has tears in her eyes.

"You're not saying this because you're gonna die, right?" Connor laughs a little bit, and he shakes his head. Zoe smiles bright, wrapping her arms around her brother. The hug took Connor by surprise, and he didn't engage too heavily in it, making sure his nail polish didn't rub off on her.

"I- I- also need your help with something," he whispers after Zoe breaks the hug off, and she nods, still smiling. Of course, this wasn't going to fix years and years of hurting her, but it was a start. a much needed start. "I want to convince dad to bring me to therapy." Zoe keeps painting Connor's nails, which is a hint to Connor that she wasn't against it. "I just wanted to ask if you could help? I know I'm not- not forgiven for the things I've done and will continue to do, but I wanna try. I wanna try to- to be better."

"Is this because of that Evan you hang out with now?"

Connor flushes red, shrugging his shoulders. "I guess."

"Do you like him?" Connor pulls away his hands from Zoe, shaking his head violently. It makes Zoe laugh, snatching his hands back. 

"Zoe! He's so not my type. I like-"

"In the past you've only liked assholes," Zoe states, and Connor huffs, silently agreeing. "Just saying, he could be good for you."

"I don't even think he likes boys, besides, I don't like him that way." 

Zoe couldn't help noticing how red Connor had gotten.

She also couldn't believe that it actually felt like she had her brother back. Even just for a few minutes, she forgot about everything he's ever done.

 

"I'll beat your ass at Skyrim any day, fucking acorn." Evan turns red, frowning at Jared's nickname for him. It was inherently not offensive, but the way Jared talks made it offensive. "Anyway, what's up with you, long face?" He looks over at Connor, who has Evan's sandwich against his shoulder, not taking a single bite of it. He leans on his hand, and he doesn't engage in their conversation.

Evan's eyebrows furrow, lightly tapping Connor's foot under the table to attract attention to himself. Connor looks up, eyes blank. "What?" He snaps, kicking Evan back, but in a not-so-soft way. Evan pulls his foot away, and he apologizes. He's learned that there's certain days that Connor just doesn't want to be talked to.

"Guys! One more day until winter break! Come on, give it up for some Christmas cele-"

"Hello everybody, I don't mean to be a bother, but Student Council is hosting a Winter Dinner in three days, right here in the lunchroom. I'm hosting it, and there's details about the food and everything on the back on these cards. Feel free to contact me or any of the other members of the Council. All meals brought will have to be Kosher, or you have to tell us it's not Kosher upon arrival. Thank you guys so much!" It's Alana. Of course. She's the treasurer of the Student Council, but she's by far the most active member. She's known in the school as being an outcast trying really hard to make it in the mainstream, Evan thinks that description is perfect.

"S- so, i- it's not a C- Christmas din- dinner?" Evan asks before Alana has the chance to walk away, and Alana smiles brightly, shaking her head. 'O- okay! Th- thank you, Alana." Evan picks up one of the cards in front of them, and he reads it carefully. Jared grabs one, tearing it up and laughing. Connor doesn't grab one, in fact, Connor probably didn't even realize Alana even came to their table.

_What's going on, Connor?_

Connor frowns when his phone vibrates, but his frown fades when he sees the text is from Evan. 

_just stressed. its not u dont worry_

_You can talk to me if you want, you know?_

_i kno, ev. thank u_  
_i might ask larry if i can go to therapy_

_What?? That's great! Tell me how everything goes if/when you decide to tell him?_

_ofc ev_

_I'm proud of you :D_

_dont be proud just yet, acorn_

_You stole that from Jared... Thief._

_caught_

And then it felt like there was nobody at that table except for Jared. Even when he calls out to Evan to pay attention to him, Evan keeps texting Connor; Jared decided that that's not very nice, so he gets up from his seat. "Come over today after school to play Skyrim with me," Jared says, staring at Evan, who nods, still not paying attention. "Please?"

"Y- yeah, will do- will do!" Jared doesn't believe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU GUYS,, SO MUCH,, FOR 1K READS?? AAHHH


	13. a kosher christmas..?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And even if you were overdressed, all attention will be on me tonight," Connor starts, and he takes two of Evan's bags into his own hands, walking towards to door, "I'm asking my dad for therapy tonight when we're done unwrapping presents. It when he's happiest."
> 
> Evan smiles at that, and he makes sure to let Connor know he's more than proud of him.

Christmas, Christmas, Christmas.

A holiday both Connor and Evan cared nothing about. Maybe for different reasons, but surely with the same opinions. Connor wouldn't tell Evan why he hated Christmas, and Evan didn't want to bother him too much by making him speak up. He'd tell him if he needed to, that's how it's always been.

Evan sent the email to his father exactly six days ago, and hasn't gotten a reply. He still hasn't told his mom that he's said yes, and he doesn't fucking know how to. He cheated on her, and seeing her son go back to him, will probably break her heart. Evan doesn't want to do that, you see, all he wants to do is be okay with his father. All he wants to do is have some sort of father figure in his life, even if he lives hundreds of miles away. Just a monthly Skype session would be enough for him. Any effort at all.

He did tell her he was going to have dinner at the Murphys for Christmas, and she had barely reacted, busy with some work-related bullshit. Evan missed his childhood; when his mom was at least home. When his mom didn't have to work her ass off for them to have a decent life. And see, Evan didn't really know what Christmas was or how to celebrate it, so, he just simply bought all four of the Murphys gifts. 

He bought Cynthia a pasta maker, since Connor had informed him that she got into weird things every once in a while, he thought this one would be nice. Pasta was Connor's favorite food, too. He got Larry a suede eyeglass case, since whenever Evan was over, he would complain about his glasses being dirty. He got Zoe a glass terrarium from Ikea, because Connor told him about having to clean the top of her dresser from the gross soil water shit that came from the bottoms. She didn't even have a plastic tray to keep them in.

And, well, for Connor, he got an array of things. He couldn't pick just one, really. He got him a set of gouache paints, two colorful mugs for colorful paint water (it's what he wrote on the note card attached), a thrifted black hoodie, and a black nail polish with soft holographic glitters. Evan just hoped they liked his gifts, and he really hoped that they got him stuff, too. 

He'd been hinting at Connor that he was out Christmas shopping, and Connor had texted him back the same, but with a lot less enthusiasm. He still hoped Connor got the hint and told his family to get him gifts. He really, really hoped he wouldn't show up with a trunk full of gifts and be completely embarrassed.

 

The Murphys household was Hell.

Connor had to escape to Evan's house for almost two entire days because Cynthia was yelling and shouting about how everything needed to be Kosher. Of course, Evan told Connor to tell her that that was absolutely not necessary, but, he just got mad at Evan for being so fucking nice to everybody all the time. Evan guessed he was so on edge because he hated Christmas so much. 

And that's why it's no surprise when Evan is packing up his gifts and he hears the doorbell ring. He squeaks, getting out of his room and shutting the door. It was the day of the Christmas dinner today, and Evan guesses that Connor is here to pick him up already. When he shows up to the front door in his striped pajamas and sees Connor in all black attire aside from a red Christmas hat, he giggles a bit. 

"Yeah, yeah, keep laughing, Hansen," Connor says slowly, ruffling Evan's hair as he enters. Evan quickly goes to fix his hair, and stands in front of the staircase as Connor is about to go up. 

"N- not yet! I- I'm wrapping presents!" He remembers he still needs to wrap and decorate the box he's putting Connor's stuff in, and he still has to pack Cynthia's pasta maker. The rest is done and put in separate bags on his floor. Connor smiles, nodding pleasantly and setting down a bag that he has in his left hand on the dining table. He looks down at it, remembering the time he flipped it over. He looks at the new chairs, and the shame starts to rise quickly. "Wh- what's in the bag?" He asks, stepping off of the stairs.

Connor reaches in, pulling out Evan's very own elf hat. Perfect. Connor pulls the hat over Evan's hair, smiling brightly as Evan's cheeks burn bright. God, he's fucking adorable. Connor doesn't think much of it when he watches Evan giggle while walking up the stairs.

Evan, takes the hat off when he gets upstairs, he lays out the clothes he rented for today, and he tries to finish packing the gifts as quickly as he can. He hears Connor yelling at him jokingly a few times before he's finally fucking ready. Evan comes downstairs a total of twenty five minutes later, with two small bags and two large bags filled with gifts. He took his medication right before leaving, and it doesn't really help his hand sweat, but it helps his heart regulate a tiny little bit.

"This isn't too formal, right, Connor? Like- this is okay, right? I had to rent it and now I'm not even sure if it's appropriate and this stupid striped tie is probably so fucking ugly! Your mom's probably going to get mad at me for wearing such fancy-"

"Ev, take a breather." Connor holds on to the table rim tightly, taking long breaths to make sure that he didn't start yelling, It was the least Evan needed. "My mom goes fucking nuts on Christmas. My dad's in a full suit and Zoe and Cynthia are both in full length, matching gowns. You're dressed perfectly, okay? Don't fucking worry so much." Most of it comes out nice. 

It does help Evan, though, his eyes going from teary to calm, nodding swiftly. He looks down at his tie, which matches his red and green elf hat, and then back at Connor, who laughs a little. "And even if you were overdressed, all attention will be on me tonight," Connor starts, and he takes two of Evan's bags into his own hands, walking towards to door, "I'm asking my dad for therapy tonight when we're done unwrapping presents. It when he's happiest."

Evan smiles at that, and he makes sure to let Connor know he's more than proud of him. They step into the car, Evan's gifts in the back, aside from Zoe's, which he holds tightly, and Connor fucking relaxed for once. "Ev, I have to be honest here."

"Hm?"

"I smoked _just_ a little bit of weed before I came." Evan sighs, but doesn't say anything else. His eyes aren't red, he doesn't quite look high, so he doesn't care. At least he feels okay. Just when Evan is about to reply, he gets a text. Both him and Connor frown, since Jared said he'd be playing Skyrim for the next eight hours. Connor starts the car, on to his house and Evan carefully takes his phone out of his pocket.

_hi! is this Evan?_

"Who is it?"

"I- I- have n- no idea."

_Yes... Who is this?_

_Oh, hello! this is Brady!_

"I- it's B- Brady," Evan says, frowning at his phone. Connor tightens his grip on the steering wheel, biting on the inside of his cheek. "W- what do I s- say?"

"Nothing."

Evan laughs, thinking Connor is joking. Connor laughs too, but just so that Evan won't get upset. "T- t- that's rude, Connor!"

_Ah, hi! How'd you get my number??_

_Jared gave it to me!_

_Of course, lol. Uh, I'm over at a friend's right now, but I can talk to you later?_

_Okay! Have fun at your friend's!_

_Happy Christmas :)_

_Thank you!_

Evan does not want to text Brady again.

 

"We made you an all Kosher Christmas dinner!" Cynthia happily cheered, pointing at the five separate dishes set on the table, and Evan smiles, turning bright red. He'd put his gifts under the tree, and he'd seen six boxes with his own name on it, and it made him smile so wide. "This here is your regular turkey, with an incredible stuffing." Connor leads Evan to his seat, sitting him down so he's a little less overwhelmed by Cynthia. "This is a nice sweet potato casserole."

She lists off every entire dish, and Evan is red throughout the whole thing, even when Connor pats his leg to ask if he's okay. "So, Evan, you're obviously Jewish." They start eating, and Larry is the first to talk. Evan's anxiety about being overdressed has been completely destroyed, though, seeing the other Murphy members. They say grace, and Evan respectfully declines and goes to the bathroom for just a little while.

"How long have you been Jewish? Is it kind of a family thing or an individual choice?"

"W- well- I- I- I- I've been Jew- Jewish for most o- of my life, actually!" Evan is very clearly, very nervous, and nobody seems to mind it at all. Evan thinks it's nice they don't treat him like he's going to break, like his mom does. "I- I- My mom i- is Jewish, so t- the traditions j- just transferred to me."

"You're quite devoted, though, aren't you?" Cynthia asks, smiling as she takes a bite from her casserole. Evan nods, stuffing a huge amount of turkey into his mouth to make sure he wouldn't have to answer any questions for a while. He didn't want to be rude by not answering, but if all the focus is on him, he's going to go fucking crazy. "Anyway, let's not flood the boy with questions. Connor, I see you've been doing okay in school!"

Connor shifts in his seat, uncomfortable from the attention as well, but he nods. "I brought my Geometry grade up to a C," he mumbles it, because he still doesn't believe it's an achievement, at all, but Cynthia's face shines. And Evan's eyes widen, swallowing his turkey and slapping Connor's arm, looking up at him, smiling brightly. "Okay, okay, settle down, everybody. I didn't win the fucking Noble prize."

"Trust me, nobody expects you to," Zoe laughs, eyeing over at her brother, making sure he knows it's a joke. He realizes it, but he still drags his fork underneath of the table in irritation. It's something he really needs to stop doing. 

"Apologize to your brother immediately!" 

"Mom, please, it's fine!" Connor says, half shouting, half joking, and nobody at the table knows how to react, so they sit in silence until somebody says something new. Connor hates looking at the Christmas tree right in front of his face, and Evan hates having clammy hands in front of a bunch of strangers. "Alright, are we done? Almost ready for the fucking presents?"

Cynthia sighs, but she nods, and slowly, everybody gets up from the table. "T- thank you f- for the meal, Mrs. M- Murphy! I- it was l- lovely fo- for you to have me over." Cynthia nods sweetly, and Evan wishes he had a mother that had the opportunity to try this much and to be this good for him. 

"Ev, come on, presents!" Connor yells, smiling brightly at Evan. But, Evan can see the secret fear in his eyes. He knows what will happen after the presents are opened and the laughs are gone and he doesn't fucking want that. Evan doesn't want any yelling or shouting, and Connor doesn't either. In fact, Connor and Zoe have a plan specifically to make sure that Connor stayed calm, and Larry _might_ say yes.

They start the circle with Larry, who had a total of five presents, two from Cynthia, one from everybody else. In total, he gets a wig cap, which was a gift given by Connor, of course. He gets a new suit jacket and a new tie from Cynthia. And from Zoe, he got a cologne that he was complaining about not being sold anymore. Evan's gift was lame in comparison.

Onto Cynthia, she opens Evan's pasta maker first, and she bursts into happiness. She only has four gifts, but she doesn't seem to mind at all, opening them all with a smile on her face. Connor got her a cookbook, conveniently. Zoe got her a brooch with a butterfly on it, and Larry got her a necklace with a heart pendant attached to it from kate spade new york. 

Zoe got five gifts as well, two from Connor, who get her two tiny plants. When she opened Evan's gift, she was beyond shocked at the fact that the two had matching gifts, but she didn't know they'd planned it out. Her mother got her a concert ticket to see her favorite artist live, and Larry got her a necklace with her birthstone attached to it.

Evan, who was so fucking excited to open his presents, got six in all. Which, technically, in boxes was more than anybody else, except he got Connor five gifts, and Connor got him three. He saves them for last. He opens Zoe's gift first, which is comically, a new shirt with a card attached saying _"It seems like you have a total of one shirt. So, here's a second one!"_ and everybody laughs. Of course, it makes Evan a little ashamed, but he doesn't mind it too much, thanking her and hugging her. Larry got him a fake arm cast, and he's the only one of them actually laughing, everybody else just being polite. Cynthia got him a new pair of shoes, the exact same as his current ones but not... fucked beyond repair. 

And then the gifts he got from Connor. He opens the smallest one first, and it's a tiny box, containing a self-made bracelet. When Evan opens it, revealing the woven, blue bracelet, Connor holds up his wrist, showing his black and grey one. "A little sappy?" Evan turns red, slipping the bracelet onto his wrist and shaking his head. He moves onto the second largest, which was about as big as his torso, maybe a bit bigger, and was also in a box. Evan opened the top, pushing away the wrapping paper and revealing a tree plushee.

Evan giggles, holding it up in front of him. Connor turns red, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck with his palm. It's a tiny oak tree, with arms reaching out and a smile on the stem, and Evan fucking loves it. "It's kinda stupid so-" Evan shuts Connor up by hugging him, and Zoe and Cynthia watch the two with smiles on their faces. Larry gets a little uncomfortable. Evan sees the last present, and he immediately knows what it is.

A painting.

He rips it carefully from the back, so it would be a surprise when he turns it around, and once the back is naked, he flips it over. His mouth drops a bit, and after that, his eyes start to water a little bit, but he keeps it in. 

It's the orchard at night. With the two of them in the middle of the grass fields. Everything is there, down to the fucking tiny puke stain on Evan's shirt. The painting is even bigger than the flower pressing Connor did, and it's so fucking detailed that Evan believes it should be put in an art museum. He looks at Connor, and he reaches to hug him again. 

And all he can think about is how this night can't fucking get better. Which means it can only go down from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow a happi chapter can you believe it !  
> also creds to my bf for the headcanon of evan having a tree plushee it was what i needed in my life


	14. therapy and a divorce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "God, you're the best, Ev." And he reaches to hug him. Something he rarely does and something his parents haven't seen him do in a long time. "Thank you," he whispers into his ear before breaking them apart, and Cynthia tears up.
> 
> She tears up because she remembers that Connor told her the orchard made him happy. Being there with Evan made him happy. It's all she wanted for her entire life; for Connor to be happy. And now, he finally was. Or, well, he was becoming happy again. Evan was helping him become happy again and Cynthia would never, ever be against that.

"Ev, this is awesome!" The hoodie is the first thing he fishes out, and Connor honestly thinks it'll stop there. But then, he sees a card, with two colorful mugs right under it. He picks up the mugs first, and he notes that they're completely different and completely something Evan would give him. 

"K- keep the c- c- card for last!" Evan shouts just as Connor starts to read it, and Connor immediately backs off and places it down, laughing.

Connor takes out the two mugs, followed by a tiny nail polish bottle with glitters, which Connor got _way_ too excited about. And then, at the very bottom, covered in a bunch of wrapping paper and confetti, is a set of gouache paints. And not just any gouache paints; fucking Winsor and Newton Designers' Gouache. "Evan, what the fuck? This is-" he counts the tubes, "twenty fucking tubes of paint! It must've cost you a fortune!"

Evan turns bright red, and he shakes his head, handing Connor the card. Connor takes the card, still staring at the box full of paints. Evan fucking remembered it was his preferred medium. His eyes scan the card, and immediately drop to the little doodle of the two of them at the bottom. His heart flutters.

_Hey! I don't do Christmas (shocking!) buuuttt, I kind of just treated it like a birthday?_  
_I got you a set of Gouache paints, picked at random because I have noooo ideeaaaaa what art is_  
_I also got you two colorful mugs for some colorful paint water!_  
_Then for the smaller gifts I got you a nail polish with some sparkles and a hoodie!_  
_Hope you like it! I love you :D_

Connor believes he's never been more red in his entire life. He turns to Evan, blushing from head to toe, and Evan smiles brightly at him. "God, you're the best, Ev." And he reaches to hug him. Something he rarely does and something his parents haven't seen him do in a long time. "Thank you," he whispers into his ear before breaking them apart, and Cynthia tears up.

She tears up because she remembers that Connor told her the orchard made him happy. Being there with Evan made him happy. It's all she wanted for her entire life; for Connor to be happy. And now, he finally was. Or, well, he was becoming happy again. Evan was helping him become happy again and Cynthia would never, ever be against that. 

Larry, on the other hand, is more than displeased that Connor has a friend instead of a girlfriend. He wants Connor to be normal, and not having a girlfriend at seventeen years old, was not normal. 

"Now that all of the gifts are out of the way, dad, mom, Connor and I want to... talk to you about something." Connor breaths in, standing up from his safe seat next to Evan and bringing himself next to Zoe. Evan knows what's about to happen, so he tenses up, scoots further away from the family, and holds his knees to his chest. "So, evidently, Connor has been doing better, right?"

"Yes, yes, and we're very proud of him!" Cynthia smiles, taking Larry's hand, who keeps a blank expression on his face and sighs. Cynthia nudges him, and he gives a weak, fake smile. 

Connor clears his throat, eyebrows furrowed. "So, I- I- just, I'm still not _good,_ you know? Like, I have outbursts, obviously, I'm not normal. I'm not an average teen." Connor stops, and Zoe smiles at him, nodding. Evan wants to walk away and stay hidden, but he knows it will both upset Connor and himself, so he doesn't do it. He stays put. 

"He wants to go to therapy." Cynthia's smile stays put on her face, and she gently nods, meanwhile, Larry separates their hands. Connor's heart sinks. Connor's eyes sink. His shoulders sink. He's so fucking done. His head bows down, and Zoe immediately shakes her head. "Dad, I- He needs it. Like, he really, really needs it. He's been through, well, shit. And he's been through more than you realize and more than he wants to tell you." Connor looks down at his hands, and Evan does the same. Connor's shoulders were still slouched, and at this point, he was also ashamed to look at Evan.

"Absolutely not. If he's doing better, then why would we pay hundreds of dollars to make him 'better'?" Larry says, standing up from his seat and walking to be in front of Connor. Connor, in order to not break down crying, balls his fists. "Besides, there's nothing wrong with him. Mental disorders are just a dud made up so people can be employed. Stop kidding yourselves."

And just as Connor is about to start shouting, Evan speaks up. "I- I- ha- have to d- d- disagree." Evan stands up with shaky legs, not very confident, but as confident as he can muster at the moment. Larry frowns at him. "I- I- I've struggled w- with anxiety and w- with de- depression for years now and- and- I can c- certainly say that it's n- not a dud." Connor can't look up, even though he wants to smile at Evan and show his appreciation, he feels like he would start shouting no matter where the fuck he looked. 

"I wasn't talking to you, Evan. So, sit back down." Evan turns red, nodding quickly and bringing his knees back to his chest, rocking around, preparing for the yelling to start and never stop.

"Stop thinking you can treat everybody like total fucking shit!" Connor shouts, and suddenly, the sad, scared boy is gone. It's how it always happens. Sad is replaced with mad. Any confusing emotion is replaced with anger. He shoves his dad, and Larry takes a step backwards, chuckling. "You're fucking sadistic, do you realize? You- you're a horrible person and- and I wish you were fucking dead!" He shoves him again, harder this time. Connor looks over at Evan, who has started to hyperventilate, and looks him square in the eyes. That's fear. "Zoe, go upstairs with Evan. I need to talk to dad. Mom, please go with them. Help Evan through his anxiety, please." 

That's Connor shining through. And Evan runs upstairs so fucking fast, even Zoe can't catch up with him until they're upstairs.

"If Evan is helping you so much, then why don't you just keep going like this?" Larry asks, and Connor laughs sourly.

"Because Evan can't be a fucking therapist! He- he can't teach me how to cope, he can't fucking teach me how to make myself okay, all he can do is help me along the way." Connor shoves his dad again, and Larry responds by slapping Connor across the face.

Evan, upstairs, still hears it. His eyes turn wide when he hears the slap, and he immediately asks Zoe and Cynthia if they can go check on Connor through his panicking. Zoe says he'll be fine, although it doesn't calm Evan at all.

Connor touches the side of his cheek, bending down in pain and feeling tears well in his eyes. "Fuck you!" Connor shouts, hitting his dad square in the jaw, pushing him down on the floor when he's weak.

"Connor, stop," Larry says sternly. Connor laughs again, shaking his head and punching him in the nose once. "Connor, I said stop!" Larry grabs Connor's arms tightly, pulling him down onto the floor. "I'm your fucking father, so you will listen to me, got it?!" He shouts, punching Connor over and over and _over._

Evan can't stop panicking. He hears all the hits being thrown, he can imagine the fight, and he's so fucking scared. He kept asking Zoe and Cynthia to check on Connor, but neither of them would. Both of them were too scared. Evan was certainly too scared. Connor was now bleeding on the floor with fingertip bruises on his arms. 

"Is this the only way to make you learn?!" Larry shouts, and he punches Connor twice more, and then gets up off of him. Connor tries to at least fucking crawl away, but Larry kicks him in the stomach, and Connor leans to his side, and he cough up blood.

Blood is on the floor from Connor's mouth. 

Connor is terrified. Larry is terrified. 

Larry grabs his coat, his car keys, and he leaves the house. Connor does not have this option.

When it has been silent for five minutes downstairs, Evan gets scared. He'd stopped his anxiety attack, but his thoughts were still distorted, and his heart was still pounding like it would jump from his chest. "I- I- I'm gonna g- go check," he whispers, and Zoe and Cynthia both hold him back. "I- It's okay- please?" Evan starts to get up, shaky hands, and he turns to the door. They don't stop him as he races down the stairs. He's not even five steps down when he sees Connor on the floor. 

His eyes widen.

He stops breathing.

What the fuck does he do?

He runs back upstairs, opens the door to Connor's bedroom where they were hiding out, saying nothing but, "Call 911."

 

Connor ends up with a broken nose, a black eye, a busted lip and a bruised jaw. 

Evan holds his hand throughout the entire overview, and he's sent back home within hours of being fucked up by his dad, at six in the morning the next day. Larry still isn't there, Connor almost cried thinking that he would be. Evan stays with them through it all. He sleeps at the hospital a bit, and he comes back home with them. 

"Mom, please- I- please, leave him." Connor is begging Cynthia, with tears in his eyes and shaking hands. Cynthia is crying into her hands, looking at her son, bandaged, bleeding, hurt, because of him. Because of her husband. The man that's supposed to love his kids and protect them. "Please- please- leave. I can't- I can't do it anymore. This wasn't the first time, mom, this wasn't the first time."

Evan's eyes widen when he hears the words, and Connor pretends like it means absolutely nothing. "It's hard, Connor!"

"Mom, he's abusive!" Zoe yells, too, and Cynthia cries more. Evan curls up on the couch, very, very afraid. 

"Look at me, mom!" Connor shouts, forcing her to look at her son. His lip cut, bruised. His cheeks are marked with a ridiculous amount of hand prints. His eye is swollen and blue and purple and fuck, Cynthia can't look at him any longer. "He scares me!"

"If I leave him, we won't have any money," she finally says, sighing. "I don't work. I don't know how to work. Just- We need him to have a home." 

Connor scoffs, and Zoe looks away, and Evan excuses himself to the bathroom. "Then get a job. We don't mind living in a smaller house, or even an apartment. We just don't want him here anymore." Connor nods at what Zoe says, and Cynthia swears she's gonna go insane.

How is she supposed to be a good mom, be happy, make her kids happy, and pay for Connor's therapy without money?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls comment i neEd the LUV


	15. scars and blame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's okay, Ev." Connor had been more understanding of Evan since his dad beat him up. Maybe because he didn't have the energy to become annoyed or angry. Or maybe because he doesn't want to get beat up again.
> 
> "S- sorry-"
> 
> "Stop apologizing so much." It's supposed to sound nice in Connor's head, but he realizes it doesn't sound very nice at all.
> 
> "So- Okay."
> 
> "You wanna say it again, don't you?"
> 
> "Ve- very much so, yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all i wrote like half ish of this chapter last night right after finishing chapter 14 sO heres a very early update !
> 
> also like tw for self harm? but thats basically for most of the chapters especially following this one! just stay safe guys <33

Evan was definitely going to tell his mother about going to Colorado today, because his dad had replied while Evan was in the midst of the Murphy family's dinner. To be exact, he said he would love to have him over and he already bought him a plane ticket for next month. It wasn't quite was Evan had expected, and he tried his best to sound sincerely thankful for the ticket, but he just couldn't. It was too much for him, way too much.

So, when she comes back in the morning from a night shift, Evan is sure to make her breakfast and pour her coffee. She waves him off, telling him that she appreciates the effort but that she really needed to get some sleep. Evan quickly and frantically follows his mother up the stairs, tapping her shoulder and fumbling with his shirt. "I- I- need to talk to you!" He turns bright red when she turns around, and he thinks about what she's told him about his father so far. 

"Of course, sweetie," Heidi sighs. Evan notes the annoyance in her voice and he never, ever wants to annoy anybody. He also knows that it's quite a common thing for him to do, and a thing that he constantly regrets doing. She leads him back into the living room and they sit down at the breakfast table, both with a cup of coffee, and both with an Evan-made omelette. 

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

Evan fiddles with his fork, poking it into the omelette sourly and biting down so hard that his lip starts to bleed. "I said yes to going to Colorado and like, I know, I know, that it's n- not good and stuff because of what he did but- but- I just, I just want a dad and I'm sorry if I betrayed your trust or if I'm disappointing you and he already bought me tickets for January, like, sometime in the weekend to come fly over. I'm sorry, mom, I'm really sorry." Heidi is calm, listening to the rambling. She's gotten used to it, to say the least, but she still grabs for Evan's meds in the cabinet, and gives the bottle to him. It doesn't help a whole lot, but off of medication, Evan is even more of a mess. 

Heidi doesn't respond for a while. It makes Evan start to bounce his knee and it makes him want to apolgize more and more and more. He watches as his mom sips her coffee and as she breaths in and out. He doesn't know if she's searching for an answer or if she's found one and she just doesn't want to tell him. "I can't tell you not to go, I've told you this, Ev." Evan nods quickly, as if he's obliged to. "But, you do deserve to know the truth about him."

"W- what d- do you mean? H- he cheat- cheated on you, I k- know that." Heidi laughs, it's bitter and it almost scares Evan away from the conversation.

See, in the hell and heaven that is Connor Murphy, Evan hasn't had any time to improve on his social anxiety. Much less has he had the energy. He's really fucking glad Connor is getting better, but he doesn't feel like he's getting better at all. His stutter is the same. His words are the same. He still apologizes like a mess and he still breaks to pieces whenever anything goes wrong. He doesn't want to be that guy anymore, the one that's too scared to do anything, but for the time being, he feels like he has to. He even explained to Dr. Sherman that Connor was draining his energy, draining his will to get better, but he felt so happy around him most of the time, so did it even count? Dr. Sherman had told him that his needs come before others', Evan had nodded, but didn't believe him for a second.

"Ev, sweetie, Marc did a lot more than just cheat on me." Evan's eyes widen at this. _How could she not tell me? Why would she keep this from me? What did dad do?_ And even though he hasn't heard what his mother has to say yet, he's almost certain he's gonna want to cancel this little meet-up with his dad. "For years, I let him emotionally drain and abuse me. He would- he would always tell me what to do, how to do it, what not to do, why it was bad." Heidi chuckles bitterly, taking a bite of her omelette. "At one point, it got so bad, that he made me believe I was sent from my hospital to be his slave. He made me his slave, Evan. For years. Before we had you, too, but when you were born, he neglected you completely. He made me do everything, and if one thing was out of place when he got home, he would shout at the both of us. He would scream and- and tell me I was the worst wife there was."

And Evan. Evan did not know any of that. Evan did not know that his mother hated his dad. That his dad hated them. That he was probably afraid of his dad. And it wasn't until his mom told him this, that everything came flooding back.

Suddenly, Evan remembers being a toddler. Evan remembers being in the middle of a fight, or, where the only person yelling was Marc. He remembers how he made her apologize to him for getting upset because he was drunk again in front of their six year old. He remembers that his mother once slept with him on the street because Marc 'needed alone time.' And it all comes back. And Evan stops breathing.

Or, well, start breathing really, really quickly. And even though he just took his medication, he still feels his heart pounding out of his chest. His vision goes in and out of clarity, and all he can hear is his mother asking him, over and over, fainter and fainter to count with her. But he couldn't hear her counting. All he could hear were the piercing, suppressed memories of his father's screaming. Of his father's demanding. Of his father's wrong-doing. 

He can't stop the thoughts from streaming, like they're constant holes in this den that Evan has made in his mind. Like they're disrupting everything in his path, his breathing staying irregular. He can't feel his hands, and the only reason he knows his mother is holding them is because he sees her in between glimpses of correct vision. God, Evan feels like he's about to die. Like his heart is going to fail and his eyes are going to roll to the back of his head. He feels dizzy and he feels shaky and fuck, fuck.

His mother holds his hand through thirty minutes of complete and utter panic. She doesn't seem to mind, but Evan still thinks she does. Evan still knows she does. Evan knows he's nothing but a burden to everybody and suddenly all the reasons why he tried to kill himself become apparent. His mind is a daze of confusion when his mother softly pours tap water into his mouth, rubbing his back and whispering to him. "I- I- I'm go- gonna cancel."

"Okay." Heidi is hushed, kissing her son's forehead and smiling up at him with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

 

_Hey Evan! haven't heard from you since Christmas ):_

_Ah, yeah. Sorry, Brady! A lot of stuff happened and I ended up having to help my friend a bit_

_I was wondering if we could maybe grab some lunch sometimes? or see a movie or something?_

Evan's eyes widen. It has to be platonic, right? There's no way Brady is already asking him on a date. Besides, he would ask a bit more formally, no? It's not like Evan Hansen is at the epitome of dating. It's not like Evan wants to go on a date with a boy anyway. Much less _Brady._ He looks over at Connor on his phone next to him, and he coughs to bring attention to himself. It works, making Connor's face cock up. Evan still can't believe how fucked up it is. "B- Brady asked i- if I- I- could go see a m- movie wi - with him or gr- grab lunch." Evan states it simply, and Connor can feel his fists balling. "Is that- is that a d- date?"

"Most likely with a creep like Brady, yes," Connor says through gritted teeth. He moves from Evan's bed to the floor, and Evan already starts to wonder what he did wrong. "Ask him to be sure." Connor doesn't fucking know why he was jealous of some other guy potentially asking Evan out, he just is. Probably because he wants to be asked out. Definitely it.

_You mean in like a friend kind of way, right? I'm sorry if that's rude or something!!_

_No, it's not rude at all (: totally in a friend way!_

_Yeah, then, sure, why not? Is it ok if Connor comes along, too?_

_Totally! u guys can come to my friend's new years party?? It's supposed to be great!_

_Aaahh I'm not really the party type! But thank you! We'll plan some time after New Years?_

_omg I'm super sorry yeah of course we will! thanks Evan (:_

"So," Evan starts, and Connor turns his attention on Evan, "o- on an un- undecided day a- after New Years, y- you and I are go- gonna have lunch with B- Brady." Connor closes his eyes tightly, coming back on the bed and pinching the bridge of his nose, which turned out to be a bad decision for his bruises. 

"God, I hate you." Evan sticks his tongue out and giggles, shaking his head. "I don't hate you, you got me. But I am certainly very annoyed with you." Evan froze at that, frowning at his thumbs. He apologizes quickly, twiddling his thumbs. "It's okay, Ev." Connor had been more understanding of Evan since his dad beat him up. Maybe because he didn't have the energy to become annoyed or angry. Or maybe because he doesn't want to get beat up again. 

"S- sorry-"

"Stop apologizing so much." It's supposed to sound nice in Connor's head, but he realizes it doesn't sound very nice at all.

"So- Okay."

"You wanna say it again, don't you?"

"Ve- very much so, yes." Evan nods his head quickly, and Connor smiles up at him, taking his seat next to Evan back. He notices Evan's hands are shaking a little, and he grabs one of them to calm him. It works, but it also makes Evan want to absolutely melt. His hands are certainly sweaty, he realizes, but Connor also doesn't seem to mind.

They proceed like that. They sit in silence looking at each other, holding hands. It's when Evan notices that Connor has blue eyes, but his left eye is half brown. Evan stares into them like the world would disappear if he looks away, even if one of them is beat to shit. "You have- you have really pretty eyes." As soon as Evan realizes what he's just said, he lets go of Connor's hand and quickly gets up from the bed. 

Connor looks at him, laughing. Evan looks back at him in horror, starting to pace around the room and breathing heavy. Connor gets up from the bed, and he puts his hands on Evan's shoulders, who shocks up quickly with tears in his eyes. "Hey, it's okay. Thank you." Connor smiles at him weakly through the busted lip, and Evan shakes his head.

"Y- you don't u- understand!" Evan's eyes keep filling and filling with more tears until they start streaming down his face. Connor, for once, does not get angry. He wipes Evan's tears with his thumbs and he looks at him as sweetly as he can. 

"Why are you freaking out, Ev? It was just a compliment. I have weird eyes, you like them, it's okay." Evan shakes his head, breaking from Connor's touch. He can't allow himself to think about Connor in any way other than a friend way. He can't. It'll just end up in him engaging in _activities_ with him. And he doesn't fucking want to. He fucking can't. He doesn't think of Connor in a romantic way, he doesn't. He really, really doesn't.

"N- no- I- I-" Evan can't fucking tell him, you know? Because if he does, then Connor will think he has a crush on him. And he doesn't. "I'm sorry. I- it's nothing." Connor smiles at him, but he knows nothing is okay. So, he reaches in for a hug, and Evan shakily takes it. 

Connor feels more than happy knowing he can calm himself down enough to comfort him best friend. But he wishes that Evan would tell him what's wrong, like, fucking ever. It seems like Evan only goes backwards while he's going forward. "Ev, have you- how have you been doing with-" Connor separates them, and he softly tugs on Evan's sleeve. Evan looks down at the floor, and he twiddles with his thumbs. Connor can't help the disappointing look on his face. Of course, he's not one to judge, because hasn't exactly been... well, better, either. But knowing Evan hasn't been either, breaks his fucking heart. "How bad is it?" He's tried his hardest the past few months to not ask about it, but Evan has been looking so fucking _sad,_ that he just couldn't help it. 

'N- n- not ba- bad," Evan says, lying. His eyes avoid contact with Connor's, and Connor tries desperately to make the boy look at him again. 

"The truth?"

"No- not bad!" Evan says now, a bit louder. It's like he's trying to not only convince Connor, but also himself. He's scared, he's really, really scared of being bad. Really scared of getting so bad that he's going to try again. And that this time, he's going to succeed. Connor looks at him, and he shakes his head, seeing Evan break into tears again.

"Fuck, Evan. You don't have to be so scared. Not of me. Not of me knowing." Evan shakes his head, and he steps away from Connor.

"I- I'm too s- scared to admit it!" Evan cries loudly, and Connor steps closer to Evan. He doesn't want Connor to think he needs help again. He doesn't want Connor to know he's been thinking about how to do it again, and succeed this time. "I- I- do- don't want to be b- bad again."

That's when Connor starts to tear up. It hurts a lot, because of his fucking black eye, but he tears up. It's the first time he's felt like Evan is him. Like he's felt so close to Evan that he could reach out and touch him, and they would become one. "Evan, you need to start talking to me."

"I can't!" Evan shouts, the tears in his eyes streaming onto his shirts and his hands in his hair and fuck- fuck, Connor wants to help him. "It's all bad again, Connor! It's all- It's all fucking- fucking shit! I don't- I- I- can't fu- fucking stop it!" He curls himself up into a corner, and Connor's fists start to ball up, but he stops it. He stops and instead of yelling, he cries more. And he drops down next to Evan. 

"Whenever you're going to do it," Connor starts, whispering, "you have to send me a text. We'll have an emoji that means, like- that you're not safe. You can slip it in mid convo, or send it on its' own. I'll be there to calm you down. We can text, I'll guide you through it all. Evan, I just- I don't want to drag you down with me. You're giving all your energy to me and you're- you're letting yourself suffer."

"Well, what about you, Connor?!" Evan yells, and he reaches to pull up Connor's sleeves, who quickly responds and holds Evan's wrist tightly, shaking his head. "See?! You're not getting any better, either!"

"Yes, I am. In case you haven't _fucking_ noticed, I've been trying really hard. I've been trying to not shut my emotions off. Even now, you fucking asshole, I haven't yelled yet." And Evan knows it. He knows Connor is trying, but he needs the attention on somebody that's not himself. Connor is still holding Evan's wrist, a little too tightly, and Evan squeaks. Connor's eyes widen when he looks down at it, and he quickly pulls away. There's immediate regret in his eyes, shame, fear. 

"I- I- I- kn- know." Evan holds his wrist to his body, shaking now. "I'm s-so- sorry."

Connor's eyes are still wide when he looks at the red fingerprint marks he left on Evan's wrist. "I'm sorry." Connor sighs, and he takes a deep breath in. "How about, whenever either of us feel unsafe, we send two underscores right after each other?"

"Okay," Evan whimpers out, and Connor softly lets Evan rest his head against his shoulder. "I- I- lo- love you."

"You too, Ev." 

Evan's still too afraid to tell Connor he's probably never going to send the underscores. Even though he's going to keep doing it. Evan's too afraid to admit to himself that he doesn't want to get better anymore.

Luckily for him, Connor already knows how he feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> making evan suffer since 1998™


	16. truth or dare (am i gay edition)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _also this convo is not over i need to know if the innocent and tiny evan hansen has jerked off or not_
> 
>  
> 
> _NOT HAPPENING_

Connor hates being alone. It goes without saying, too. Because he just gets, really, really uncomfortable. When he's at school or with Evan or with even fucking Jared Kleinman, he can stop bad thoughts. They're there, but he keeps a dam on them. He keeps his thoughts where they should always be, in the back of his mind, not spewing out of his mouth. When he's alone, the dam breaks down. He spends hours and hours trying hard not to hurt himself, painting over his entire body, painting over new and old scars, crying into pillows. Connor hates being alone because it reminds him of all the nights he tried to kill himself.

Larry always thought it was for attention. That Connor tried to commit suicide ten times in one year, purely for attention. That he had not a single square of unharmed skin on his arms because he wanted attention. And Connor starts to think about that, and he starts to wonder _Yeah, maybe I am a no-good fucking attention whore. Maybe I'm doing it for attention. I'm probably not ill at all. Why would Larry even say those things to me if I'm not just looking for attention?_ But he hates it, God, he hates it when he starts to think like this. Because from there, it's just a merry-go-round spiraling down. His thoughts become one deep, black fucking hole and he feels like he's not in control anymore. He starts to feel like he's going to do it again. Like he's going to try again.

Because, really, who would care? Zoe says she forgives him, but he can still see the fear in her eyes every time they talk. Cynthia says she wants to help now, really, really wants to help him, but if he was just gone, she wouldn't have to worry about helping him. And Larry, Larry with his half-assed apology for making his son look like a fucking rag doll, would probably dance over his grave.

Then he thinks of Evan. He thinks of Evan who would be better off without him. Who wouldn't be so hurt and so drained and so fucking broken suddenly without him. He thinks of Evan's smile and Evan's laugh and his hands and his stupid fucking polo shirt. He thinks of Evan's scent and of Evan's Christmas gifts and of his stutter and his imperfections and his perfections and he feels like he's going to go insane.

With eyes covered in tears, he quickly runs over to the room next to him, a t-shirt thrown on and tight jeans, only covering a few of his scars. He runs to Zoe's room with his eyes red and he stands in the doorway, heaving. "Connor?! What's wrong?" She sees the drawings on his body; and she knows why they're there. But she also sees the few scars under all the paint that are still red and irritated. She sees the way Connor is shaking and for a second, she thinks he's done it again.

"I ruin e- everything, Zoe." He takes a few steps closer to her bed, and Zoe immediately makes room for him to sit down. "I'm hurting Evan and- and I'm hurting the family. I hurt everything I touch. Everything, Zoe!" He sits down on her bed blindly, his eyes fuzzy with tears and his throat completely clogged with phlegm and spit and fuck- Connor wants to die.

"That's not true, no, Connie, it's not true!" She wraps her arms around Connor's shoulder tightly, and tears form in her eyes, setting away the stupid fucking magazine she was reading. She thinks of something to say, she's searching for anything to say to make him feel okay. Anything at all. 

"I should- I should just die. This- this time for real. I can't- Zoe- I don't want to anymore." Connor has no idea why everything is as bad as it is now, and knows exactly why at the same time. Zoe's eyes widen, and she shakes her head, carefully laying Connor down on her bed, sitting against the wall so Connor's head is in her lap. 

"Please don't. Connor, please don't do it again. Things are bad, I know, with mom too weak for a divorce and dad so- so, terrible. But, it will get better! I'm here, Connie. Evan is always there for you, too. We'll always be here."

"But I'm ruining you! I'm exhausting you and Ev and- and mom because, because I'm such a fucking attention whore!"

Zoe starts to cry, shaking her head and resting her forehead against her brother's. "You're not, you're not, you're not, you're not. We love you. We love you so much. You just need help, you're gonna be okay."

Connor doesn't realize it, but he falls asleep to his sister whispering to him and stroking her fingers through his hair.

 

Evan hates New Years.

Because, he like, kind of sort of celebrates it. If watching the ball drop with his mom every year is celebrating, of course. But this year, he wants to do something a bit more fun. He wants to throw a party.

Okay, maybe he's calling it a get-together because there's only gonna be six people there, potentially only five, but he still wants to do it. His mom will be out on a night shift, like every other fucking night, so he wants to invite some friends over, share some pizzas, and watch some shitty movies. Problem is, New Years is in three days. And everybody probably already has plans.

He's asked Connor, who is obviously coming, he asked Zoe, who is also coming. She asked Alana, who said she would see if she was free but still hasn't responded. He asked Jared, who said yes immediately. Now, it was time to just ask Brady. Evan doesn't quite like Brady, but he wants to make plans with him now, where there's more people around, so that he won't have to go to lunch with him after. He just really doesn't like socializing. 

_Hey! I know you said your friend had a New Years party and all but I'm having a little get together with like 3 or 4 other people that night and I was wondering if you wanted to come?_

_yeah, sure! Just send me your address and I'll be there on the 31st (:_

Evan really doesn't want things to be awkward that night, because his first plan was to just hang with Connor, but he figured Connor was getting tired of him already. So, he spices things up. Of course, making sure it's okay with Connor, because he's the only person Evan actually really, really wants there. And just as Evan is about to text Brady his address, he gets a text from Connor, instead. 

_hey can i come over? im having a sHitty day™ and i would rlly like to spend some time with my best bud_

_Yeah, of course! You don't have to ask, you know?_

_yeah yeah but some day u could be like jerking off and i burst into the door like that would be awkward_  
_wait can u even masturbate if ur jewish_  
_ill be over soon i gotta research to see if youve ever jerked off_

Evan's entire face goes red, driving his palm into the middle of his forehead. Truth is, Evan would rather not talk to Connor about masturbation because just the thought of it makes his entire body shiver. 

_omg are u an orthodox jew_  
_bc if u are then u cant 'spill your semen in vain'_  
_have u spilled ur semen in vain, ev?_

_Connnoooorrr ): STOP and come OveEr. No more talking about me masturbating or not_

_ill be ovr in ten_  
_youve totally spilled ur semen in vain_

Evan is still red from head to toe, with body shivering in embarrassment. He does not ever want to talk to Connor about this. Ever. He hides his face into his pillow, and he shouts into it. His fucking frustration with Connor has been through the roof since he called his eyes pretty two days ago. He understands it's not... bad to have romantic thoughts about a guy, but he also understands that the Torah does not support homosexual actions. Thoughts are fine. Actions are forbidden. 

He doesn't know if he can keep having these small, romantic thoughts for Connor without acting on them.

_also this convo is not over i need to know if the innocent and tiny evan hansen has jerked off or not_

_NOT HAPPENING_

 

"Truth or Dare?" Connor asks, looking up to Evan with a cocked eyebrow when the boy suggests the game. Evan nods, blush on his cheeks still from their earlier text encounter. Connor's head was still spiraling a bit from the mess he had been early this morning, but Evan doesn't seem to mind that he's not all there. "Sure?" Evan's arms flew up in excitement, and very faintly, Connor could see the scars sprawled on his upper arms. 

It was a little worse than Connor thought it would be, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he grips the carpet they're sitting on and waits for Evan to start the game. "O- okay! So, tr- truth or dare?" Evan asks smoothly, a sly grin forming on his face. Connor hopes this boy is too innocent to make him do anything malicious at all.

"Truth." Evan rolls his eyes, obviously annoyed by Connor picking the safer option of the two. "Oh, shut up, Hansen." 

Evan giggles into the palm of his hand and he looks around his room for a clue on what to ask. "Wh- what's your fa- favorite ice cream flavor?" He blurts out, which, wow, not very exciting. Connor notices Evan's obvious cringe at the question, but he does his best to pretend like the question is super fucking difficult. Just to make Evan feel better. 

"Pistachio. I believe. And now it's your turn, polo boy. Truth or dare?"

Evan looks down at his shirt, embarrassed. Ever since Connor noticed he had multiples of the same shirt, he bought more of them, but they were still all in the same style. "Dare!"

"Okay, daredevil." Connor grins, and Evan scrunches up his nose to show he's completely ready. "I want you to show me your search history. Right now."

And, okay, Evan panics a little. And with a little, he means a lot. Because he can basically recite his search history from heart and it's not something he wants to recite. "N- no!" Evan yelps, eyes shut tightly with hands clammed. Connor cocks an eyebrow up, obviously interested. "A- anything but that, please, please?" He eyes his laptop behind his bed, and Connor shakes his head, laughing.

"A dare is a dare, Hansen. Now go get your laptop." Evan gets up shakily to retrieve his MacBook, placing it in front of Connor with the lid closed.

"Y- you ha- have to promise y- you won't a- act weird, please?"

"Unless it's tentacle porn, I don't give a shit." Evan turns away, giggling, and he nods. He steps out of the room quickly, and he tries so hard to remember his search history word by word. It's scary how easy it is. And it's scary how easily Connor guesses Evan's password -- treestrees1. Connor swiftly moves his fingers to the history tab, ready for seeing that Evan maybe isn't as innocent as he seems, and _oh._

_am I a bad jew if I like a guy?_  
_how to not act gay_  
_ugliest trees in the world_  
_torah full text_  
_book of mormon bootleg_  
_how to stop having feelings for a guy when you're a guy_  
_am i gay quiz_  
_Netflix_  
_can I be straight but admire guys??_  
_Be you. - /r/Gay_

And again, _oh._ See, that wasn't quite what Connor was expecting Evan to be so embarrassed about. He feels like he's 100% intruding something private and something that's for Evan and Evan only to see. So, he puts the laptop down and bites down on his lip before walking over to the bathroom, in which Evan locked himself. "Hey, Ev, come out? Sorry for daring you to do that." 

But, there is something inside of Connor that wants to die because Evan likes a fucking guy. Evan likes a fucking guy and he doesn't want to and he breaks in pieces because this is potentially one of the tings breaking Evan. And now all Connor wants to know who it is, so he can personally yell at him to back off of his best friend. Not because he's jealous. Totally not because he's jealous. Evan opens the door with tears in his eyes and a sniffling nose, but Connor doesn't comment. 

"It's okay, you know?" Connor whispers, trying to somehow make Evan feel better, even though he has absolutely no experience with religion. "I mean like- I don't think a religion should, uh- should limit you? Like, it's all about freedom, right? So, I don't think being Jewish is a reason to like- not accept liking a boy."

Evan thinks about telling Connor that he's the boy. But he decides against it, because it would make everything fall to shit. "I- i- it's more c- complicated t- than that." Evan doesn't mean to sound rude, but he admits it doesn't come out very nicely, so he follows it up with a quick, "Sorry."

"Maybe you should- I don't know, like, tell Heidi? She's been Jewish for a long time, she'll probably have some good advice for you?" Everything Connor says is a question mark, because he's looking at Evan and he's looking back at him and he just wants to fucking kiss him.

No, _hug_ him. 

"W- what i- i- if she hates m- me?" Connor shakes his head, and he places his arm loosely around Evan's shoulder, leading the two back to Evan's room to continue their game, hopefully on a happier note. 

"She could never hate you." Connor presses his nose to Evan's temple, and Evan almost fucking cries. "Let's keep this game going?" He asks it, but both of them know it's not really a question, and Evan nods softly, wiping his tears. Connor notes that every little thing Evan does is nothing but soft. He also notes that he's the exact opposite.

Opposites attract, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> henlo dont forget to cOmMent i LOVE you guys<3


	17. connor isnt alright, evan is starting to be alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And just as he comes to Jared's doorstep, he gets a text.
> 
> _hello_   
>  ____
> 
> He freezes. Like. His entire body freezes. The thing him and Connor had discussed literally two days ago, and Connor was using it. Connor wasn't safe. Evan wants to fucking save him, he wants to heal him and make him happy again and shit, shit, shit, there's no way Evan can ignore Connor now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a day late i am very sorry ):  
> also: tw for depiction of self harm. stay safe guys <33

Larry Murphy is _officially_ back after his six day long trip at a hotel after beating his son up. Also three days after he cried to Cynthia over the phone with his 'apology', saying he felt disgusting and he felt the way that he used to. Connor knows Larry definitely relapsed and started drinking again. Connor also wouldn't usually give a shit about his father relapsing in anything else. But being drunk brings out his real side. The side of him that's nothing but fucking anger and Connor doesn't fucking want to see that side. So, at any attempt Larry tries to speak at him, Connor runs to his room, locks himself, and starts painting. He starts and he doesn't stop. He's only been back for a day, but Connor already wants him gone again. 

He's been sleeping in his sister's room recently, on the floor with a mattress and three pillows and his wool blanket. It's enough, it really, really is, because he gets the chance to reconnect with his sister again. Which is a great, great thing to do when you don't have your parents yelling about how fucked up you are. And that's what Connor's life is like now, _again._

"Larry, I am not waiting around for my son to try and take his life again." She whispers it, but because it's the dead of night and Zoe's door is always open, Connor can still hear it. He stares up at the ceiling, then at Zoe, and he notices she's sleeping. From downstairs, Connor can hear his mother starting to cry already. His heart sinks, eyes dull as they focus back on the ceiling. It's all his fault, isn't it?

"And I am not paying two-hundred dollars every single fucking week to pay for it, Cynthia!" Connor knows it's supposed to be mean. Because unlike him, Larry only had bad intentions. And he meant all his bad words, all his yelling and hitting. He never, ever feels ashamed of it. "It's his fault for wanting to be special."

"Special?! You think our son has tried to kill himself twenty-three times just to be _special?!_ "

"Ever wonder why they never worked out?"

Cynthia scoffs at him, and she nods, sitting down next to him on the couch. "Because he's crying for help, you fucking asshole!" 

That's all it takes for Connor to hear a loud smack ram across Cynthia's face. Larry doesn't apologize, Connor wants to help but he's stuck in place. He can't move his hands, his fingers, his legs. He can only focus on the sounds downstairs, the fighting. It's always fighting. "I could be spending that money on vacation trips and- and you expect me to give it up to help our fucking retarded asshole son?!" 

Connor feels tears running down his cheeks, but he can't make himself go to wipe them. He's just shaking in his blankets, in fear. The words echo in his ears. The sound of Cynthia being slapped echoes in his ears. He cries more. 

"He's trying. Larry, he is trying. If we just help him. If we can get him somebody to help him-"

"No!" He hears a loud stomp on the floor, and a gasp from Cynthia's mouth. "I said no, and that is final!" 

Connor really doesn't notice it when he gets up from his spot and moves into the bathroom, searching blindly for his blade with the tears still in his eyes, and his face still completely blank. Emotionless. He slams the door shut. He finds his blade. He locks the door.

The thing about cutting is that when you've done it for a while, it becomes normal. To Connor, cutting is just a way of either feeling anything at all, or a way to escape. Instead of worrying about his parents fighting, he worries about how to get deep cuts to stop bleeding. He's completely numb to it when he cuts over old cuts on his arm, when he makes shallow cuts on his thighs. He's fucking numbed. He watches the blood ooze out like it's nothing. He watches his skin pull back to reveal his second layer of fat. He doesn't even blink when he wets some toilet paper, laying it on the cuts, and then laying down on the floor. 

He lies on the floor for thirty minutes, blood continuously poring out of his body, the large wound on his thigh not even daring to crust. He's numb when he flushes the blood covered, double wrapped pieces of toilet paper. He's numb when he applies antibiotic cream to a bandage and sticks it on his thigh. 

Connor Murphy is numb to everything. And nothing, nothing is going to fix that for him. So, he walks out of the bathroom and back into Zoe's room like nothing happens, where he finds his mother standing at the frame after he enters. "You okay, sweetie?"

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, just tell her no, no, no, no._ "Yeah, mom." Connor gives Cynthia a weak smile, hiding his new scars under his cardigan and under his bed sheets. Cynthia smiles back, and the fact that Connor can see the hand print on her cheek breaks his fucking heart. _Mom, I'm spiraling down. I thought Evan would help but he's not. Why does everybody say friendships heal things? They don't. Friendship is not the cure to wanting to kill yourself. Mom, I want to kill myself. I'm gonna fucking kill myse-_

"Good night, Connie."

"Good night."

 

Evan is gonna start crying.

He's been reading forums about gay Jews all day and all of them say something different. The main messages he's getting are: Don't act gay. But don't be against gay. There's no constraints on being a Jew. But being gay is not very Jewish of you. 

Evan called his father out through email, telling him that he's an abusive asshole who doesn't deserve another chance at life. It scared him to be that mean, but he did it, and his father didn't reply. Also, New Years is in two days, and Evan still hasn't heard if Alana is coming, so there's that. And he's gay. Or bi. Or just a fucking confused teen. He also knows he has no hope with Connor, because Connor probably likes somebody else entirely. Probably a girl. 

Heidi has been home a little more, to prepare Evan for his party on New Years, mostly. And she's heard Evan having several panic attacks in his room, what she doesn't know, however, is that they're caused by endless google searches. Evan doesn't know why it's such a big fucking deal that he likes a guy, but it is. It is because the Torah says so. It is because his mother will probably say so, too.

He wants to tell her, really, really bad. Just to try and feel better or maybe get shut down so hard that she'll fix him. But, every time he starts to think about it, he freaks the fuck out. Usually, he would text Connor now, or he would invite him over, but he simply can't. It'll just make him think more about kissing him and about his pretty, stupid fucking eyes and his hair, _God_ his ha- And he's doing it again.

So, as a distraction, he goes to Jared's instead. He leaves a list of things he wants his mother to get for his meet-up, and he places it down on the table. Evan makes sure to say goodbye before leaving, and taking the fast path to walk to Jared's house. 

His entire fucking day has been a hell-hole for him. He's had worse days, of course, but never days like this. Where there's one specific thing beating him up, even though it shouldn't be a big deal. Fuck, why is it such a big deal? He supports LGBTQ rights very openly, but being bi? Being gay? No, never. His head seems stuffed with seeing people get angry about there being gay Jews, and of other people getting angry that they're angry about Jews being gay. It was too much for him, and Jared always calms him down.

Well, not always, but enough. 

And just as he comes to Jared's doorstep, he gets a text.

_hello_   
____

He freezes. Like. His entire body freezes. The thing him and Connor had discussed literally two days ago, and Connor was using it. Connor wasn't safe. Evan wants to fucking save him, he wants to heal him and make him happy again and shit, shit, shit, there's no way Evan can ignore Connor now. 

_On my way. Keep texting me, please stay safe for now, go to the living room and wait there for me_

_ok_

Evan swears he's never ran this fast in his entire life. From Jared's house, he sprints all the way to Connor's. His phone is tight in his pocket, and tears start to form in his eyes from running in this stupid fucking weather. But his whole entire fucking head is screaming _Connor, Connor, Connor, Connor._ He's so afraid, because he doesn't fucking know if the underscores mean he's about to kill himself, or if they mean he's about to self harm or if he just needs somebody to fucking talk to, but Evan doesn't care.

He doesn't care because when he enters the house, breathing heavily, Connor isn't in the living room. His eyes widen, his heart sinks, his legs shake. He sees Larry sitting on the couch. Fuck. Larry is back. Of course Larry is back. "W- wh- where's C- Connor?" Evan asks, sighing, and Larry points his finger upstairs obnoxiously. Evan nods, and he races upstairs immediately. 

He swears he almost has a heart attack when he notices the bathroom door is closed, and he hears Connor's heavy breathing through the door. Fuck. He's too late, isn't he? Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck. Evan softly knocks on the door, and it unlocks almost immediately, and an arm pulls him in abruptly, curling against him immediately. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Connor cries out, and he keeps crying into Evan's chest and he keeps hyperventilating and shaking and Evan is- is so incredibly overwhelmed. Connor doesn't have his jacket on. In fact, he's in only boxers and a cotton blend t-shirt, and Evan sees the other two clothing items thrown to the side. He tries his hardest to not notice- or well, not stare at- Connor's scars sprawled all over, so he just wraps his arms around him, and rocks him around.

"W- Why are y- you so- sorry?"

_I fucked up. I scared Zoe away again. I got angry again. I'm a failure, Evan. I deserve to fucking die. I wanna fucking die. I don't want to live like this anymore. Everything got so loud and it all got so annoying and my ears hurt and now my body hurts and I don't want this anymore. I'm sorry I'm planning a suicide attempt in my head._ Connor doesn't answer. Evan figures it's because he doesn't really have an answer, but really, he has way too many. 

The two of them sit there, Connor crying and panicking and Evan holding him and letting small tears drop from his eyes. Connor doesn't realize Evan is looking at his body, every part of his scarred, scary fucking body. The fact that there's currently three bandages on his arms alone because of cuts that went too deep. He's staring at his every imperfection, and it makes Evan feels like there's a dagger going through his chest.

His best friend. This fucking boy that he's come to know, is hurting so fucking much. So much more than he ever has. His problems become minuscule when he remembers Larry sitting on the couch, when he sees Connor's body, when he hears him cry. Connor looks up at Evan after a total of forty minutes of crying and otherwise silence, and Evan smiles at him weakly.

"I'm sorry, Evan." Connor says it again, and he softly gets out of Evan's space, putting his cardigan back on. He sits back against the wall, and he curls up. "Please, go."

"W- what?"

Connor cries more, and Evan shakes his head heavily. "I said go." It comes out harsh, like Connor wasn't crying in his lap just now. "Go, please! Fuck- I don't want to hurt you, too!"

"You always say that!" Evan shouts, and he doesn't mean for it to sound so fucking angry, but that's the way it comes out. "B- but yo- you ha- haven't hurt m- me!" He comes closer to Connor, reaching out his hand. Connor takes Evan's hand, pressing down on his wrist harshly.

"Then I suggest leaving before I do." Connor puts his head down in shame. "It's either I hurt myself or I hurt you, Evan. I don't- I don't want to hurt you. I don't. I really don't."

"I- I- do- don't want you to- to hurt yourself!" He gets closer to Connor, who is still pressing down on his wrist, and Evan has to admit, it hurts. It hurts a lot. "L- let me in, C- Connor." 

"No!" Connor shouts back at him, dropping his wrist angrily. "Whenever I let people in, they fuck me up inside! They get in so they can make it worse, they pretend like they care so they can make it all worse!" He grips at the sides of his head, and he feels hot tears burning in his eyes. He looks up at Evan. 

"I'm- I'm n- not like those people!" Evan shouts back, and he takes Connor's hands, intertwining his own fingers with his. "I- I- want t- to f- fu- fucking help!"

Connor looks at their hands with wide eyes, and he lets tears stream down his cheeks. "You can't help me. I'm too- I'm too fucked up to help."

Evan comes closer to Connor again, sitting down right in front of him, their legs touching. "A- at le- least let me t- try." Connor doesn't respond. Evan knows he doesn't have to, all it takes it for Connor to start crying again to know what his answer is. 

It's like he's letting all the tears he's ever held in. All at once. All in front of Evan. All because of Evan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i am sorry for a late update but i am Lazy ha ha !


	18. connor isnt a bad person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Until I met you, I- I- hadn't cried in probably nearly ten years." Evan doesn't know how to respond to that, so he doesn't, and he gives Connor a light smile. "Now look at me." Connor laughs a little, and it makes Evan laugh too, and then they're staring down at Connor's tear stained shirt and Evan's tear stained shirt and it all feels so okay. Connor feels so safe crying in Evan's arms and crying with Evan and fuck, maybe this boy really is fixing him. Maybe, just maybe, with the help of Evan, he can get himself better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyy sorry if this isnt like as good as it usually is ive had two really shitty days in a row that were supposed to be fun :/

Evan stays at the Murphys for lunch. And dinner. Cynthia wasn't expecting him, so she doesn't have a specially made kosher meal. He says he doesn't mind, and Connor ends up making the boy a peanut butter sandwich just to shut up the rumbling of his stomach. 

Connor has been crying for quite literally over five hours. It's on and off, but it's constant. Ever since Evan came, he'd been yelling and crying on and off and Evan didn't know how to deal with any of it, but he tried so fucking hard to. So, Connor sits at the dinner table with red eyes and a stuffy nose and nobody even asks what's wrong, which Connor thinks describes his relationship with his family. 

Evan feels bad, like he feels ridiculously bad whenever he puts his hand in Connor's hair to comfort him, and then imagines what it would be like to do this every day. To do this just because he fucking can. And then he takes his hand out for a second. And then puts it back into his hair almost immediately. He watches Connor break down and he watches as Connor winces and tries to get words out but can't. He watches Connor try to come back to reality, but he can't. He can't and it makes Evan want to murder everybody that's ever hurt Connor. He showed people his vulnerable side, and it always hurt him.

It makes Evan's heart flutter that Connor is letting him see his vulnerable side. It makes him happy that Connor has some sort of trust in him, some sort of hope that Evan isn't a bad guy. That Evan can try to help. "Until I met you, I- I- hadn't cried in probably nearly ten years." Evan doesn't know how to respond to that, so he doesn't, and he gives Connor a light smile. "Now look at me." Connor laughs a little, and it makes Evan laugh too, and then they're staring down at Connor's tear stained shirt and Evan's tear stained shirt and it all feels so okay. Connor feels so safe crying in Evan's arms and crying with Evan and fuck, maybe this boy really is fixing him. Maybe, just maybe, with the help of Evan, he can get himself better.

Connor stops crying after dinner. Him and Evan sit on his bed, and they sit silently. They go on their phones and they sit together silently. It wasn't an unusual plan between the two of them, but it felt different today, because Connor was just done crying, and Evan was just done comforting him. It feels like they are both slightly uncomfortable, and neither of them are the biggest fan of feeling uncomfortable.

Evan closes his eyes tightly, but he decides he wants to talk first. Connor is too vulnerable to, currently. He puts his phone away, and he turns to Connor. There's a smile on his face, and Connor cocks an eyebrow up, turning to Evan. "H- hey." It's a weak, very weak, attempt, but it makes Connor look up from his phone. "D- do yo - you know i- if Alana i- is coming to the pa -party?" Connor nods, and he shoves his phone into Evan's hands, showing a text from Zoe telling him Alana is coming.

"We'll have a full house." Evan laughs a little, and he nods, giving Connor's phone back. The air is thick in the room, and both boys end up going silent again, the feeling of emptiness reoccurring. So, Connor twiddles with his thumb, Evan's leg bounces, and then Connor takes a deep breath. "Can we cuddle?" It's a mumble, intentionally, because he's never been so embarrassed.

Evan cocks his head to the side in confusion. "I ca- can't he- hear you." 

"God- God dammit, Hansen," He mumbles, and he lays himself down on the bed, forcing Evan behind him. "Cuddle me, please."

"W- what?" Evan's eyes widen, Connor curling himself smaller and Evan behind him, hovering his arm over Connor's waist. Connor pushes Evan's arm down, blushing bright red as Evan scoots a little closer to Connor. That's scary. And definitely a little gay. 

Naturally, Evan feels disgusting. Not because of Connor, in fact, he would fucking love to hold Connor like this every second of the day. But because there's a little voice in his mind yelling at him that this is against God. That he's going to get murdered now. He's laying with another man, and yes, he knows laying means fucking another man, but, like, same thing. "You don't have to if you don't want to, like, I don't want to make you feel like you have to-"

"I- I- wa- want to." Evan holds Connor tighter, and Connor crawls himself backwards. He never fucking cuddles people, but he's been wanting to ask Evan to hold him or if he can hold him for the longest fucking time. Everything about him screams cuddling, screams love, screams soft. He's so fucking soft and lovely and sweet and it makes Connor wanna be a better person just looking at him. 

"Thank you, Ev." 

Neither of them know how it fucking happens, but they fall asleep. And for once, both of them fall asleep feeling nothing but safe.

 

Evan wakes up to a cold bed, a cold room, and a lot of yelling downstairs. He doesn't move from his place, mostly because he's too fucking dizzy to, but also because he would rather not get involved in anything going on downstairs. The only thing that prompts him to get up is when he hears his own name involved in the yelling. His eyes widen, and he sits up, tears already forming in the corners. _God, you fucked it all up, Hansen. Fuck. Connor probably never wants to see you again, he fucking hates you and so does his family and he never wants to see you again. You shouldn't have fallen asleep with him. That was probably really fucking weird. Fuck._

And that's when he also notices that it's already 11 A.M. and he hasn't taken his medication yet. And he usually takes his second pill in about two hours. Fuck. He puts his ear to the closed door of Connor's room, and he listens to their conversation. He admits eavesdropping isn't good, but it's also not good to skip your medication. So, he needs to get home before it's too late to take his regular dosages. He really wishes he'd just walked into the room instead of listening trough the door.

"What's even going on between you and Evan?!" It's Larry. Of course it's fucking Larry. Larry who is the reason Connor flinches at some touches more than Evan does.

"Nothing, fucking nothing! He's the only fucking person that's ever actually been there for me!" Connor yells back, and the crack in his voice makes Evan want to start crying. 

"So that's why he fucking fell asleep next to you? Because he 'supports' you and your shitty actions?" 

"You're one to talk, Larry. Do you not see what you've done to my face?!" Larry scoffs, and Connor knows it's because he's a bad person. It's confirmed when Larry looks down at the floor and tries to look sad, guilty, even. It doesn't work on Connor. 

"At least I feel horrible about it." Connor scoffs at him now, pushing his father back against the wall. He's in no condition for another fight, but he doesn't fucking want Larry to win ever again. 

"I feel fucking horrible about every time I do anything! How don't you fucking understand that?! How don't you understand that I'm fucking sick, and I need help and I need a long-lasting therapist who I can talk to about feeling like I want to kill myself most of the time?!" 

Larry scoffs again. "None of that fucking explains why your little faggot friend up there was clenched against you all night!" And ouch. Ouch, ouch, ouch. Evan slides down to sit on the floor, with eyes wide, tears fogging his sight. _Little faggot friend._

"Because at least he understand!" Connor's breathing gets heavier, and Larry is still pressed against the wall. He knows how aggressive Connor can get. "Because at least he fucking tries and he- he- actually likes _me!_ Not just the person I am when I'm most 'normal.' He doesn't mind the elevated me, or the me that's completely down. He tries to help when I'm spiraling out of control and out of all the people that have ever seen every single side of me, he's the only one that hasn't run away!"

Connor isn't crying. Connor has, in fact, never been more passionate about something. Evan decides this is the time that he's going to come downstairs, with tears in his eyes and thumbs twiddling, entire body shaking. Connor and Larry both turn to the stairs when they hear footsteps, and Connor lets go of his father. When he sees Evan, he expects to relax, but he doesn't relax when Evan is crying. "I- I- ha- have to- to take my- drugs- I me- I mean meds. I- I- I'm so- sorry. S- see you to- tomorrow, Co- Connor."

The door closes. But Connor doesn't feel empty. Connor feels ecstatic, a bit too ecstatic, in fact. "I'm going out, bye, Larry." It doesn't take anything more than that to make Connor slam the door, too, and race after Evan, who is very clearly crying. "Hey, wow, why are you crying, are you okay?" It's too fast for Evan to comprehend. So he just keeps walking. Connor shoves Evan a little, all in good fun, but it makes Evan walk faster, moving away from his best friend. "Okay, then!" Connor shouts when the other boys runs away from him. "Fuck you too, then!"

_I don't need him. I can be happy on my own. I can be happy without him. I can go for a drive and pick up- well- anybody. I can do anything now! Fuck Evan. He's only there when he wants to be, isn't he?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is actually so short and bad but im feeling so very bleehh today that i dont wanna im v v sorry i will try to maybe update later or otherwise make tomorrows update way better  
> pls comment?


	19. what the fuck is wrong with connor murphy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan's never felt so scared and worried but hurt in his entire life. His eyes widen at every single text Connor sends up until the last one from thirteen minutes ago. He remembers Connor got into his car. Connor was texting and driving. Connor could literally be dead right at this second and it would be his fault. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
> 
> _Connor, please calm down. You're not thinking straight. Please go back home so nothing bad happens to you_
> 
> No response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 updates in one day wow !

_i thought u understood_   
_i thoughtyou were difrrent evan_   
_ur just like everybody elsearent yiou_   
_uletf me_

Evan comes home to the messages, and he's lucky his mother isn't here, because he immediately breaks down crying. _No, no, that's not what I meant to do. That's what it sounded like, wasn't it? Fuck, fuck!_ He runs his fingers through his hair, eyes continuously filling with tears and nose clogging up, and then it comes, his first anxiety attack of the day. 

He looks at his phone every few seconds, watching more and more texts stream in. He struggles to stumble over to his medicine cabinet to grab his medication, because he feels like he's actually going to fucking pass out. When his hands reach for the pill bottle, he clatters it on the floor, causing the four remaining pills in it to scatter all over the floor. It just made him panic more, crying and apologizing to nothing, swallowing one of the pills dry and scratching at his upper arms, making himself bleed.

Thing is, Evan can't fucking do it anymore. Just like Dr. Sherman said, he needs time off. Time to work on himself. But, he can't make himself do that. He can't make himself better while knowing he's making Connor worse. He can't do that to him. He can't do that. Everything is too much and everything is yelling at him all at once, and he's screaming and crying on the floor and it's so fucking hard to stay okay when everything around you isn't. 

He calls his mom, on speed dial, in his moment of desperation, three pills next to him and his cracked prescription bottle. He doesn't fucking know what to do because everything is fading out but coming closer at the same time and his body won't stop shaking and his heart feels like it's flown across the room. Heidi doesn't answer. Typical. He only has Connor and Jared left. Jared won't help. Connor won't help.

Evan ends up having one of the worst anxiety attacks of his life on the kitchen floor clutching his constantly vibrating phone. He's too afraid to read the texts, too afraid to think about Connor. Everything crashes down all at once, and the only thoughts in his minds are once about wanting to cut, wanting to burn, wanting to fucking die. The New Years party that's tomorrow completely flies over his head when he's recovered from his panicking, mostly, and shakily walks to his bathroom. With the door wide open, Evan starts cutting and doesn't stop until the voices in his head stop screaming at him.

When he finally feels some sense of euphoria, some sense of calmness, he picks up his phone. 

_ican do itwihtotu you_   
_id ont need you at all_   
_f you hansen_   
_idc abt you theres other ppl i can actually havefun with_   
_bye_

Evan's never felt so scared and worried but hurt in his entire life. His eyes widen at every single text Connor sends up until the last one from thirteen minutes ago. He remembers Connor got into his car. Connor was texting and driving. Connor could literally be dead right at this second and it would be his fault. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

_Connor, please calm down. You're not thinking straight. Please go back home so nothing bad happens to you_

No response.

After fifteen more minutes, there's no response. Evan's actually going to die of a heart attack right here, right now. His eyes are filling with tears again, and he feels exhausted when he notices that there's a large amount of blood from his cuts on his shirt. His panic comes back almost immediately. Anxiety strangles him until he has no control over his movements, his thoughts. Anxiety wins, again.

_Cononr pleashe beokay imsoryr fro walkokign out liek that_   
_ilove you pelase_

_sorry, evan_   
_but im with jared now_

Attached is an image of Connor and Jared. Connor and Jared kissing. Connor holding Jared's face and kissing him. Evan feels his body collapse, he feels his heart break, his bones break, every single thing that could be wrong with a person, is wrong. Everything hits him all at once and he throws his phone against the wall, picks up his blade again, and he keeps cutting.

He keeps going and going and going until he feels too weak to move his arms. He keeps going until his entire stomach is filled with cuts and his upper arms are smothered and he's going to pass out. He's going to die right here, right now, with a picture of his best friend kissing his other best friend. Blood drips down onto the clean tiles of his bathroom floor, onto his already bloody shirt as he reaches for his phone on the other side of the wall. 

There's a gigantic crack going down the left side, with smaller cracks coming out of it and fraying to the right. His heart sinks. His mother is going to kill him. He clicks on Jared's contact, and he wants to call, but he doesn't want to hear Connor's voice. At all. 

_jaredplesa dotn do anithigjn with conor hes veryvulnerbale andhes notokayu rihgt now_

Evan waits for three minutes until he gets a reply. 

_ah too late sorry ev_

_whatdid you do_

_gay stuff_

_sex?_

_u bet_

_fukcyuo_

Evan keeps himself in the bathroom for another two hours. He doesn't reach for his phone. He sits in the bathtub, the water he let run turning completely red from the scars on his stomach and thighs. It stings, it stings so bad, but nothing hurts more than having Connor hate him. Nothing hurts more than knowing that Connor finally had his turn at hurting him. 

This is what he warned him for. God, Evan should have listened. He should have backed off of Connor Murphy and he should have just let Connor lead his miserable life without dragging himself into it. This isn't what Evan needed. This is the exact opposite. 

So, he reaches for his only other contact available, Dr. Sherman. It might be fucking stupid, but Evan sometimes calls his therapist when things are really bad. He usually takes time out of a session to make sure Evan is okay. Not very professional, but one time, he stopped Evan from trying to kill himself, so he takes it very seriously when he calls now. So, when he calls and Dr. Sherman picks up, he's not surprised. "What's wrong, Evan?"

"A- are yo- you busy?"

"No, it's okay. I'm actually coming down with the flu so I'm resting in bed. What's going on?"

"I- I- me- messed up." He doesn't need to wait for Dr. Sherman's question in order to answer it. "Co- Connor i- is like- go- going crazy. I- I- I've ne- never seen him so- so selfish and- and destructive and I- I- don't k- know what to do." 

"Evan, do you know what's wrong with Connor?" Evan mumbles no into the phone, and he looks down at the floor and into the tub and he feels so fucking gross about all the blood surrounding his naked body. "Do you think he could maybe drop by during one of our sessions and I could meet him? I can offer him financial aid so he can pay for the sessions himself. I really think your friend needs real help, because I can tell this is too much for you."

"I- I- cou- could br- bring him, ye- yeah." It's not like Connor needs financial aid. He can pay for the sixty dollar sessions even with his own allowance. "B- but I do- don't re- really wa- wanna talk t- to him r- right now."

"Why? Did his actions affect you?" Evan notices Dr. Sherman sneezes away from the phone right after, and he giggles a bit. 

"Y- yeah. H- he ju- just had s- sex with m- my only ot- other friend." Evan slaps his hand in front of his mouth right after saying it. "Oh, my God! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to tell you that, I- I- just like, I- I- was just thinking about it and it made me sad but I didn't mean to tell you, God, I'm so sorry! He did other things to, he- he- said he didn't need me and he said that he hates me and that he can do everything himself but- but- but- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tell you that, I'm so sorry!"

"Calm down, Evan. Everything is okay, it's completely fine that you told me. Why is that such a problem?"

Evan has two answers. One was selfish. One was not. "W- well, h- he did it to- to be se- self de- destructive. A- and also- also I- I- like him." Evan's entire body turns red. He hasn't said that out loud yet. "Like-like him. I do- double like him. I- I- want to da- date him."

"Ah," Dr. Sherman says, and he gets up from his bed to the kitchen. "Would you say you're jealous of your other friend?"

"No! No- no! I- I- don't w- want to- to have _sex_ with him, y- you know? I just- I- I- I'm hurt. N- now I kn- know Co- Connor definitely d- doesn't li- like me." Evan fails to mention that he also doesn't want to like Connor because he's fucking Jewish, but he figures Dr. Sherman can figure that much out on his own. 

"It could just be that Connor had sex with anybody he could find. Sometimes, people have sex to be self-destructive, as you said, Connor could be one of those people. Has he ever done something like this, to your knowledge?" 

"N- no, never." Evan raises his knees to his chest, cold in the tub that he's been sitting in for the past hour and a half. 

"Could it maybe be that you're afraid to like Connor, so you're trying to find a reason not to like him right now and that reason is him having sex with your other friend?" Evan sighs, it's not completely true. Right? Because, he is too afraid to like him, but him fucking Jared is a very valid reason not to like him. Right? "You don't have to answer if you don't want to or don't know. Just tell me to move on, and we will."

Evan is bad at that. Usually, he holds up three fingers in the office if he wants to stop talking about something, but over the phone, that's clearly not very possible. So, he just stays silent, and Dr. Sherman understands the hint. "Have you self-harmed recently?"

He doesn't mean to snort in amusement, but he does. Dr. Sherman takes that that's not a good sign. Evan looks down at the marks all across his body, and he stares down in shame. "Y- yeah. A- a lo- a lot." 

"Can you describe how you felt when you were cutting?"

Evan's also not good at this. "A- anxious? A- an- angry? Uh- un- unwanted. U- useless." Better than he usually does. Evan ends up talking to his therapist for nearly an hour, too afraid to hang up in case there were more texts from Connor or from Jared. He was too afraid to move, too afraid to do anything but talk. He didn't want another fucking anxiety attack. 

He checked his texts from Jared first afterwards.

_wtf why_   
_do u like him????_   
_ur like straight wtf are u gay?? but ur jewish????_   
_dude pls come over and explain to me. connor is gone he seemed to be in a hurry. im srry!!_

He decides that Jared is really fucking nice, because Connor wouldn't have reacted the same way. Somehow, he still wants Connor instead of Jared. Somehow, Jared never made him realize he likes guys. And then he checks his texts from Connor. Six attachments. Six texts.

_number 2!_   
_number 3 she kinda ugly_   
_number 4_   
_nurmber 5 btwim drunk lolol_   
_nurjmb 6 !!_   
_aandd7 imtirod nowwww_

All six pictures of him kissing boys and girls alike. All six pictures breaking Evan's heart. 

What the fuck is wrong with Connor Murphy? 

_Please stay safe, Connor. I love you. I'm gonna take a nap, text me when you've sobered up._   
_I'm begging you, please don't drive like this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey ! i know everything is moving like reeealllyyy slow rn but it's for the tension!! wait for new years y'all   
> rubs hands together hi hi ha ha


	20. connor has a plan (spoiler alert: it's gay)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor has to fix the mess he's made. So, he decides, Evan is going to be his midnight's kiss tonight.
> 
> He doesn't know if this will do it, but thinking about kissing Evan makes him all happy inside and so he decides that, yes, this is worth it. And yes, he will kiss Evan. And yes, Evan will definitely forgive him. He has to. He has to forgive him because he loves him. He said he loves him. In one of his lasts texts to Connor, that's what he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> school starts tomorrow )): so updates might be posted later at night like this one or might be less frequent ): im hoping for the first one!!

Connor finds himself in his bed eight hours after he first ditched Evan, crying into his sheets. His room his trashed, his eyes are completely bloodshot and his hands just won't fucking stop shaking. He shouts into his pillow, he punches it. Nothing helps. It's three in the morning and he realizes he's woken everybody in his house up, but he doesn't fucking care. 

Zoe yells at him to shut up, which he knows is just because she fucking wants to sleep the night before New Years, but he still fucking hates her for it. He punches another dent into the wall, creating a clear crack in the drywall. He curses to himself when he sees the bruises on his knuckles, and he cries more. He didn't fucking mean to hurt Evan. He never means to hurt anyone, but he still fucking did it. And today was the stupid fucking party and Evan probably never wants to see him again and fuck, fuck, fuck.

Connor has to fix the mess he's made. So, he decides, Evan is going to be his midnight's kiss tonight.

He doesn't know if this will do it, but thinking about kissing Evan makes him all happy inside and so he decides that, yes, this is worth it. And yes, he will kiss Evan. And yes, Evan will definitely forgive him. He has to. He has to forgive him because he loves him. He said he loves him. In one of his lasts texts to Connor, that's what he says.

And even though it's 3:17 A.M, Connor texts Evan.

_beenthinking abt you ev_  
_m very sorry for fuckingjared and those other pplidont know what happnd_  
_imhome now i love you_  
_im sosorry_  
_plesa forgive me_

Connor spends the rest of his night completely and utterly depressed. Too depressed to move from his bed, to move a single muscle. Even when his phone lights up and the name on the screen displays Evan, he can't move. All he feels is guilt. All he feels is disgust and sadness and fucking pain and he can't even force himself to move. He lays awake, half-drunk, with tears creeping in his eyes, and with his heart pounding a hole through his chest. All things that weren't preferable.

 

Heidi has been trying to get her son out of the bathroom for four hours now, and she's fully convinced that he's either killing himself in there or somebody else. Even though it's four in the morning, she simply can't stop crying, pounding on the door in order for Evan to finally come out. In order to prove to his mother that he's not dead and he's not killing anybody. 

Truth is, Evan is just panicking about the huge stains of blood on his shirt. He drained the tub water, he cleaned the floor with very minimal staining, but he had a fuck ton of blood on his stupid fucking shirt and his stupid fucking body and Jesus, he doesn't know what to do. Heidi knows he self-harms, but the only time she's ever really seen it was when he was swimming last year, and even then, she saw it through his shirt. And it was a thousand times less bad than it is now. Fuck. 

"I- I'm fi- fine, mom! J- just, pl- please le- let me ge- get out!" He's crying, too, trying desperately to scrub the blood out of his t-shirt. What had previously not been a concern of his at all, was now his worst fucking nightmare. 

"I can't! E- Ev, you have to understand what's going through my mind right now!" 

"M- mom, th- there's cu-cuts everywhere and- and- I- I- don't want you to see!"

Heidi's heart stops. "Everywhere?"

"A- a lot of them. I- I'm sorry- I'm so- sorry, mom, o- okay? But I- I- I'm ashamed!" Evan keeps crying, and he throws his bloody shirt into the washing bin, giving up on trying to clean it all off. He hears his mother's sobs and he swears he's going to collapse. He swears he's going to break down right here and his cause of death is going to be _My mother cried and it broke my fucking heart._

"I need to see, Evan. Y- you might have to start seeing Dr. Sherman weekly again." This makes Evan squirm. Weekly appointments are a nightmare. He's already so stressed, and having to talk to somebody about that every single week, makes him more aware of it. And it makes it worse. 

Evan, with shaky hands and teary eyes, unlocks the bathroom door. There's cuts that have mostly faded into on the surface scars all over his stomach and upper arms, and thighs. He doesn't even make eye contact with his mother when she swings the door open and starts to cry. He doesn't make eye contact when she holds him in his arms and strokes his hair and kisses his forehead, telling him it's okay. He doesn't make eye contact when she tells him he needs more help. 

He doesn't even make eye contact when she picks him up and carries him to his bed, tucking him in, and kissing his forehead. Evan is too afraid to move from his spot, too afraid that there's gonna be blood on his sheets, too afraid that if he stops being zoned out, he'll hear his mother crying in her room again.

Evan is simply too afraid.

Which isn't exactly news. But the fact that Evan can't fucking stop thinking about Connor is. That his mind is so fucking wrapped up in this stupid boy that hurt him so much. So, after trying to fall asleep for an entire hour, he responds to Connor's earlier texts.

_Hey I'm not mad at you. I forgive you, don't worry about that._  
_I'm just scared because I'm hurt and I'm not good at dealing with that. My therapist said he would help you, sessions are only like fifty bucks._  
_I really want you to be okay but what you did tonight obviously points to somebody who's not okay..._  
_I love you I hope you got home safe. I might need some time to go back to how we were before this happened, that's not your fault._

And finally, when the clock strikes 7 A.M., Evan gets some sleep.

 

Connor and Zoe go to pick up Jared, Brady and Alana to go to Evan's house at exactly noon. Maybe a little early, yes, but Connor can't find a way to respond to Evan's texts, and he's feeling somewhat normal after taking some stupid organic relaxation pills his mother ordered off of Amazon. He still feels like he's going to vomit because of how many people he fucked in the spam of three hours and because of everything he did to Evan. 

Driving to Jared's house makes him feel even more shitty. Makes him feel like the worst fucking friend to ever exist. It also makes his skin crawl because, shit, he actually fucked Jared. Like, Connor went over to Jared's house, fucked him, and then went home. He feels disgusting. He feels even more disgusting when Jared actually gets into the car. Not because of Jared, but because of what he did to him. Hopefully Jared knows it was because his skin was itching to do it. Hopefully he knows it means nothing. Hopefully Jared knows Connor used him. 

_I used him, I used him, I used him. That's a very bad thing to do. Very, very fucking bad. I used him, I used him, I used him, I used him._

It's not until Zoe has to take the steering wheel from Connor's hands that Connor realizes he was driving them straight into a wall. So much for feeling better, right? They also definitely, definitely shouldn't let Connor drive. When there's a bunch of people in the car, everything gets really distracting for him. Like, he starts to notice that Jared pushes up his glasses a little too frequently, and that Zoe likes to move around in the seat next to him a lot. And that Jared doesn't talk to him at all.

That's weird. Jared doesn't talk to him at all. Not about what happened last night. Not at all. Connor figures that means he understands where they stand. He hopes that's what it means. 

When they go to pick up Alana, Connor asks if they can all switch around so Connor is in the passengers seat, Jared is driving, and Zoe is in the back. Not because he hates Alana and doesn't want to be behind the wheel with her in the car, but because four people is simply too much for Connor. And also, he needs to prep himself for whatever the fuck he's going to tell Evan. And whatever the fuck he could possibly say back.

 _"Hey, sorry for fucking your only other friend. And sorry for telling you I hate you. I don't. Sorry for fucking all those people and sending you pictures. That was fucked up. I'm really sorry."_ Connor decides that that is an okay apology. He also decides that that's not what he's going to end up saying, and all that's going to come out of his mouth are cries and whimpers of feeling disgusting. Because he's trying so hard to push all his pain away right now, but it's just not fucking working. Because he wants to scream, and scratch himself until he bleeds and he wants to cry, but he won't let himself do that in front of anybody but Evan.

He's learned others don't care as much as Evan does. Why Evan cares will always be a mystery to him, and the only thing he can ever think of is because he sees himself in Connor. And he desperately wants to make Connor feel better than he does. 

When they pick up Brady, and the fucker has flowers in his hands, Connor literally fucking loses it. Of course, not physically. His body stays completely still, but he stares the fucking bitch down as he's stepping into his car. He sees the breath mints in Brady's stupid fucking pocket, and he scoffs. Like Evan would rather kiss Brady than him. Fucking right. 

They got back to Evan's house at just a little over 1 P.M., because Connor figured he needed some sleep after texting at six in the morning. He also still has to figure out how to deal with his gut falling out of his ass while he looks at Evan's house. He also has to figure out how to stop Brady from stealing his midnight kiss. Connor is the one to take the keys from under the potted plant outside, and he's also the one to swing open the door quickly. He's also the first one to notice the broken prescription bottle on the floor with two pills next to it, and a note underneath of it. 

The others back away while he approaches it, and Jared makes himself at home without even trying to find Evan. 

_Hey, sweetheart! I hope you slept okay after what happened last night. I bought your favorite breakfast, Nutella croissants!! There's enough for your friends, and if one of them is allergic or something, There's a plain one and some spreads and non-kosher cold cuts in the fridge! Don't forget your medicine, too, I'll go get the refill tonight. Have fun with your friends today, lovely!_  
_P.S. If you ever need to talk to anybody, I'm just a phone call away! Or text, or even an email. I'm always here =)_

Connor reads the note, and he puts it back down under the pills and the bottle and immediately, he feels like he's invading Evan's privacy. "Hey, I'm gonna go wake Ev, okay?" Everybody else nods, obviously not actually paying attention to him, and Connor walks upstairs with legs shaking. 

This was it. His only chance to see if Evan really forgives him, or if he's just playing the part. If he just doesn't want to hurt Connor. Fuck, he really hopes it's the first one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next two chapters r gonna be Wild watch out yall


	21. evan is falling. connor is falling. (a different kind of falling)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan loves the fact that Connor looks like he could kill you, but really presses flowers in his free time. He loves that Connor doesn't know what to say to comfort him, but he knows how to hold him. He loves that Connor is open to him. That Connor appreciates the parts of him that he despises. The way Connor's hair falls in front of his eyes and the way Connor speaks and the way Connor is trying. He loves the way that Connor is trying because of him. Connor is so fucking good to him, and he wants to be good for him, and that's enough for Evan.
> 
> Of course, it would be nice if he were a girl, so that Evan doesn't feel like he's dishonoring a part of his religion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK U FOR ALL YOUR GREAT COMMENTS!! IM SRRY I DONT REPLY TO THEM INDIVIDUALLY BC LIKE I GET RLLY ANXIOUS TRYING TO REPLY TO PPL BUT I READ EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM AND APPRECIATE THEM ALL!!

Connor stands in the door frame of Evan's door. His heart is racing, his bright smile fades into a dull frown. There's a moment where the whole world seems to sit still, where Evan and Connor are the only people on earth, and nothing else around them is alive. Connor's eyes scan down Evan's exposed chest and arms, and he puts a hand on his mouth, trying to choke back tears. Red streaks are marked all across Evan's tiny body, it's all irritated, some are deeper than others. Connor wants to believe that whatever the fuck he's seeing is a dream. He can't have let Evan suffer this much. He can't be the reason why Evan has a countless amounts of cuts covering his body. He can't be. He doesn't wanna be. God, he's a horrible person. God, Connor is the worst fucking person.

He walks towards Evan, there's tears welling in his eyes. There's a pain that he feels so responsible for. There's a pain in Evan that he knows he caused, and that he can never, ever take back. He's part of the reason that Evan is more broken than he was. He's part of it all. Guilt flushes his entire body when he reaches out to touch Evan's wrist, gently trying to wake him up. As gently as he possibly fucking can touch a person.

Evan's eyes break open, and Connor notices the redness still around them from crying for God knows how long. He can feel the air in his lungs start to collapse, trying to pick up the pieces of his broken heart. It all fails when Connor still sees fear in Evan's eyes. Connor breaks down when Evan is still afraid, when he notes that Evan is afraid of _him._ Maybe a kiss won't fix anything after all. Maybe Evan needs more, maybe he needs a pair of arms, maybe he needs a set of ears, maybe he-

"G- good mo- morning." Evan pulls his sheets over his half naked body, and Connor makes it very known that he knows what's there. How much there is. How recent they are. He pulls the sheets back off, with tears in his eyes, and it makes Evan tear up, too. "I- I- I- ha- had a ba- bad ni- night. Co- Connor, pl- please sto- stop looking." 

Connor might be an asshole, but he knows when to stop. He knows that when he's been staring Evan down for five minutes, he needs to stop. He knows that. He knows exactly how it feels to get stared down like that. "Because of me," Connor mumbles, and he picks at his nail polish. Evan pulls the sheets back over himself, and he turns around, and he starts to cry. He starts to cry and Connor doesn't need an explanation, he just hugs Evan from behind, holding him like Evan held him two nights ago. He holds him like he'll collapse if he lets go. He holds him and he never wants to fucking let go. 

"I- I- I'm so- sorry!" Evan's apology is so unnecessary, and it makes Connor's face scrunch up, and he makes a displeased sound, and he holds Evan closer to him. Always closer. 

"No, Ev, Ev, I'm so sorry. I don't- I don't know what fucking happened. I'm sorry. Sometimes things become too much and everything starts to move like one big blur and suddenly, I'm a fucking slut and I- I- get so hyper and so- so- like, unwilling to sit still." Connor tries so hard to not make it sound like a sob story. He thinks he's kind of failing. "I just- sometimes it happens for hours, sometimes for days, sometimes for weeks and like, technically, we know what's wrong. But my parents won't get me diagnosed. They won't do anything. I'm- I know it's not an excuse for what I did, God, of course it's not, but it's an explanation. You deserve one. Or a million. Or the entire fucking universe." 

Evan doesn't laugh at his joke. Connor didn't expect him to. But he also didn't expect for it to make him cry even harder. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I know like- I know being fucked up isn't an excuse for doing fucked up things. I didn't mean for it to be-"

"Sh- shut up, Co- Connor." Connor laughs a little, because Evan isn't saying it maliciously at all. Nothing he does is malicious. "I- I'm su- supposed to be the r- r- rambler." It sparks another laugh from Connor, and also a chuckle from Evan himself, who turns around to face Connor carefully. 

Evan doesn't fucking like Connor. Totally not. He fucking made him cry so hard, and Connor hurt him, God, Connor hurt him so much. He hates Connor. 

So why in the actual _fuck_ does he want to kiss him so bad? Why does he want to close the small space between them with their lips touching and his hands in Connor's hair and their body rubbing against each other? Why does he want Connor to do things to him he's never even thought about before? Evan doesn't even fucking know why he wants Connor. At first, he thought it was because he was just another broken guy, but it's so much more. God, he's learned to love Connor.

He's learned to love everything wrong with him and everything right with him, and all the grey areas in between. Evan loves the fact that Connor looks like he could kill you, but really presses flowers in his free time. He loves that Connor doesn't know what to say to comfort him, but he knows how to hold him. He loves that Connor is open to him. That Connor appreciates the parts of him that he despises. The way Connor's hair falls in front of his eyes and the way Connor speaks and the way Connor is trying. He loves the way that Connor is trying because of him. Connor is so fucking good to him, and he wants to be good for him, and that's enough for Evan.

Of course, it would be nice if he were a girl, so that Evan doesn't feel like he's dishonoring a part of his religion. 

Evan's face goes red, and this time not from crying, when Connor ruffles through his short blond hair. Connor can't help but notice how pretty Evan is, and he can't help but notice how pretty his hair is and how pretty his posture is and how pretty he is cuddling into Connor and he just wants to kiss all the scars away from Evan's body, but he can't. He can't and he never will be able to. He'll never be able to fix him. Ever. Not completely.

"You're- God, you're too good for me, Ev." Connor's eyes well with tears, and when Evan notices, he wipes the tears that threaten to roll down his cheeks away. "You're such a good person, Evan. You- you never hurt people. You fix them. You make them feel okay."

"I- I- used t- to lie a lot." Oops. There comes a ramble. "When my dad left, I wanted people to feel bad for me so I told my entire class my dad died. They all believed me and I invited them to a fake funeral and then I made my mom buy me a suit and everything. She walked in on our fake funeral, completely freaked out, and I told her we were burying my hamster. The kids asked why I told her that, and I told them she didn't know he died. I lied and then lied and then lied again and somehow, the principal found out, told everybody that Marc Hansen is not dead, even though I wish he was, and she made me apologize to the whole class. I also lied about how I was allergic to dairy and would die if I had it on a camping trip for school because they offered me milk and I don't _like_ milk, so then I didn't eat chocolate or anything related to dairy even though they were making s'mores and I love s'mores and I-"

"Ev, it's okay." Connor had been rubbing circles on Evan's back since he noticed the boy had started shaking while talking. Maybe because of a lack of breath. Maybe because the experiences reflected poorly on him, maybe both. "I've done things way worse, you don't have to worry about things like that with me. I'm still going to know you're the most special person I've ever come across and God, if I could just- just make you better, instead of worse, it would be worth it."

Evan doesn't know how to respond. He's been worse because of Connor. But he said it himself, if it takes a little bit of suffering on his end to stop Connor's pain forever, then it's completely worth it. Hopefully? "I- I- It's wo- worth it."

"I'm not worth that effort."

"Y- yes, yo- you are." Evan reaches for Connor cheeks, softly stroking it, but Connor pulls away. He pulls away to pull off of the bed. He can't stand it. He can't stand it when people he loves lie to him, when they tell him the things he wants to hear instead of the things that are true. There's no way Evan thinks Connor is actually worth wasting his life on. No way. No way.

"Please, I don't-" Connor doesn't want to yell. He doesn't want to get mad. He slows his breathing, and he keeps counting until he's all the way to twenty. He doesn't feel very okay. "Everybody is waiting for you downstairs, I'm sorry for hurting you. Text me when you wanna cut. It's- uh- it's bad."

And he's gone. Just like that, Connor is gone. He walks downstairs, tells everybody he needs to go for a drive, and he sits in his car, and pounds on the wheel. Anything is better than hurting Evan. Anything is better than really wanting to help Evan but not being able to because he's so fucking insensitive. "Why can't you fucking do anything right?!" He yells it at himself, it's one of his most used phrases.

He doesn't want to be the guy that has freak-outs, but he doesn't know how to stop it. Not without therapy. Not without support. He doesn't want to do this anymore. He wants to be normal. To resemble somebody normal at all. Evan was his only hope. Evan, who isn't normal, but is so soft. He's so lovely and so innocent and God, Connor wants to die. Today isn't going to be a good day. It's not gonna be a good week or a good year, because when you're Connor Murphy, why would it be? Why would he be loved or be appreciated or be helped.

When people think of mentally ill folk, all they think about are schizophrenics and depressed people. All they think about is self harm and suicide rates. It's all 'voices in your head' and acting fucking crazy. But when they see somebody that's actually ill, they back off. They don't interact. They fear that they'll hurt the person, or more likely, that they will hurt them. Connor is in that lovely area where everybody thinks he's just an asshole acting out, but he really is just fucking ill. And he needs fucking help. And nobody is fucking giving it to him. Nobody knows that under his blanket of aggression, he's just broken. And he needs somebody to help him glue the pieces of his once innocent soul back together because he doesn't know if he can keep living like this any longer. 

He's on the edge and he's falling, and if there's not a branch sturdy enough to hold him up, he might just hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaahhhh this is so short but school started today and i wanna Die™ so thats great uhhh ill try to get a longer update in tomorrow!! alsooo pls tell me if you would rather have updates this length (2000-2500 words max) or longer ones but then it would be more like every other day instead of every day (3000 ish words)
> 
> pls let me know :DDD


	22. new years kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brady is visibly shaking, everybody can tell, and Evan can tell either his or Connor's hands are getting clammy.
> 
> He assumes it's his. It's really Connor's.
> 
> The countdown reaches ten seconds.
> 
> "Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have been a BAD AUTHOR aaahh so ive been realllyy busy with school starting and all and just today was my bf and i's one year anniversary :D i spent the whole day with him so i couldnt update im v v sorry :c hope u like this update though!! ive decided to write longer chapters but try to keep a day by day schedule for the most part! but dont quote me on that
> 
> also tw for like,, implied hypersexuality?

“Who votes _Wizard of Oz?_ ” Brady shouts through the five people surrounding him, Evan’s face lights up with excitement, and he quickly raises his hand as high as it can go. Connor looks at him, completely endeared, and raises his hand, too. If Evan wants it, he wants it. When he sees Connor’s hand in the air, his eyes fucking sparkle, and Connor can’t believe this boy is real.

Because, when he came back into his house, angry and stomping, Evan pulled him aside. Connor didn’t try, but he did shake a lot, and Evan sat with him and talked to him. Even when he’s hurt Evan so much, he’s still there. And there is no way that that could ever be real. Not for Connor, anyway. He can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that his best friend is the most incredible person in the world.

He also really, really likes Evan. And he really wants to kiss him and spend lazy days in bed with him. He really, really wants to hold Evan during a storm and whisper sweet words into his ear. He wants it all. He wants to be able to love Evan, because he’s known he’s gay since he was a kid, it’s just never applied before. And now it applies. But the person it applies to is dealing heavily with religious problems surrounding his sexuality already, and Connor doesn’t want to upset him.

Zoe ends up raising her hand to _The Wizard of Oz_ as well, and so, that’s what got plugged into Evan’s DVD player. Evan had been so kind to make his mother go out and buy root beer specifically for Connor, and buy skittles specifically for Jared. The other three, he didn’t know that well, so he just got a random array of chips, which also just _happened_ to include his and Connor’s favorites. Alana and Zoe take over the couch together immediately, laughing when Zoe puts her legs over Alana’s just so nobody will steal the tiny spot in between them. Evan and Connor take place right in front of the two, backs against the couch, a little bit too close to each other. Jared takes his spot on the chair facing the TV, and Brady soon takes his spot next to Evan on the floor.

Connor does not like that.

Connor also does not like that Brady keeps inching closer to Evan, and Evan keeps looking over at Brady and Connor isn’t quite sure whether it’s because he also thinks Brady is too close, or if he likes it. Connor hadn’t even considered the very real possibility that Evan likes Brady. Fuck. 

He gets up from his seat next to Evan, which makes Evan look up and pout and really, can he fucking _not_ be so cute? “I- I’ll order pizza now, that okay? I don’t think any of us have really eaten a lot, especially you, Ev.” He glares over at the boy, who blushes a little and nods, and then rushes to Connor to give him the number of their most trusted pizza place. “How does two plain and one pepperoni sound?” Connor shouts from near the kitchen, and everybody sticks their thumb up, nodding and continuing to watch the movie. Meanwhile, Evan stands in front of Connor with a smile on his face. 

See, they hadn’t hung out very often at Evan’s house for dinner time, but the only three times they had, they had pizza. And Connor knew very, very well that Evan was too afraid to call the delivery guy, much less get the pizza from the door and take it as they count the change. “Th- thank y- you, Con- Connor.” Evan whispers it before going back to his spot on the floor next to Brady, and Connor swears he’s never ordered pizza this fast in his whole entire life.

He knew he shouldn't be this jealous, but he can't help it. He knows, or at least thinks, that Brady has the same plan as him, and he doesn't want him to succeed. It's not like he's been dreaming of kissing Evan, (okay, maybe he has) but it's something he really, really wants to do. For no apparent reason. He's not a romantic person, at all, in fact, he usually wants to kill himself watching any type of romance happening, but Evan makes him want to be romantic. Evan makes him want to kiss and cuddle and hug and fucking rub noses in the middle of the hallway, purely because Evan wants to know Connor. Evan has made an effort. And Connor can't stop fucking thinking about his eyes.

Connor's known his interest in boys since quite young, but he's never felt this romantically about one. He would just stop to admire boys sometimes, which he thought wasn't weird until Larry caught him once, when he was about six years old, and started ranting about how disgusting it was for one guy to like another. And even now, he's too fucking scared to actually date Evan. His experience with dating, romance, sex, all haven't been the best. He hopes Evan can be the one positive in his sea of negatives.

So when Connor takes his seat next to Evan, he stretches his arm and wraps it around Evan, making the latter boy blush very, very brightly, but he moves into the touch. It's definitely obvious now to Brady that Connor wants to do the same thing as him, and he decides that it'll be a battle from now on. That it'll be them going head to head for this boy's kiss, for his love, for his body, for him. He needs to win Evan Hansen over.

Connor won't let that happen, but, yeah, sure.

 

Jared is the first to finish three slices of pizza, Evan is the only one to finish five. Connor, on two slices, helps Evan eat, and Evan blushes and smiles, taking the cheese and the dough into his mouth. It all makes Brady very upset, but nobody cares, because nobody knows him, and he doesn't know anybody.

Evan is also the first to apologize for his party being boring, and he almost begins to cry, but all five of his guests tell him it's nice to relax and just talk and watch a movie. Short version: they're all just happy to be there. Happy to spend time with some people they enjoy, and happy to spend time with good pizza and a good movie. Zoe and Alana, as well, are very, very happy to be together. They never hang out after school, but talk quite a lot in their Physics class.

Zoe hopes that one day Alana will note her as more than just an acquaintance. 

The movie finishes, and Jared is first to speak. "Evan, buddy, pal, can I talk to you for a second?" Evan looks over to the chair Jared positioned himself in, and he frowns, but nods. Jared leads the two of them to the basement, which was rarely used. Evan hates the basement, but since Jared is here, he's okay with it. Him and Jared used to have sleepovers in the basement when they were little kids. "Listen, I'm sorry about yesterday. Connor came into my hou-"

"T- tell m- me wh- what hap- happened, please? I- I- I'm wo- worried abou- about him." Evan isn't just upset that Connor fucked Jared, he's also just fucking worried about him. He's worried because he seemed fucking crazy last night, and Evan doesn't want Connor to get even worse. The question leaves Jared a little confused, but he nods. 

"I- So, Connor came to my house with no warning, like, at all. Aside from a text that like told me he was in front of the door. I opened the door for him, and he like- I- he like grabbed me by the shirt and threw me against the wall and started like- making out with me." This isn't easy for either of them. Both of them are more than fucking uncomfortable. "But he looked different. He was- he was like shaking a lot. His eyes were really wide and he was- he was very loud. And really aggressive, and when I told him my parents weren't home, he like fucking hollered and carried me upstairs. It was like- It was weird to see how much he suddenly like- wanted to fuck? He ripped my shirt in half and then took a picture of us kissing and then he- he like just- he asked me if it was okay if he fucked me and I said yes, because like, I'm fucking gay, and I've been deprived of sex since the whole thing with Tim happened, whatever, so like, he- we- fucked. He didn't take any clothes off," Evan flinches at that, because he knows why, "and he like- after he did it, he buckled his pants back up, told me I was good, and then left. Like he was in a hurry. I texted him, and he didn't answer until this morning and it was just a bunch of apologies and him saying he felt horrible and that it was a mistake and-"

"O- okay." Evan takes a step back from Jared, whimpering. Jared pulls out his phone, and he shows Evan the texts. Evan wishes he hadn't.

_im so sorry jared_  
 _sometimes thishappens and i just end up fucking whoever i can im reallyreally sorry_  
 _i didntmean to use you or hurt you im so sorry_   
_its always there but sometimes i just need to have sex and i use people and im so sorry i didnt mean anything by it an dif you want to stop being my friend i understand that_  
 _i fel so disgusting and horrible for doing this to you you deserve better_  
 _ill be there in a bit to pick you up please dont hate me_

He feels like he just read things he definitely wasn't supposed to read. And he definitely heard something Connor didn't want him to hear, but what the fuck is he supposed to do? Just watch Connor break down into mania and fucking whoever he can and driving while drunk and doing whatever the fuck else he did? Was he supposed to just assume this was the first time it happened? Or the last time? Because Connor said it 'just happens' sometimes.

He doesn't even notice that he slips into panic, he doesn't even notice that he drops Jared's phone and starts rocking back and forth and starts crying and crying and shaking and fuck, Evan wants to help Connor. But, shit, he can't. He can't help Connor because Connor's problems are so far from his. They're both damaged. They're both damaged in far too many ways, but both in different ways, too. He also doesn't even notice that Jared tries to help him this time. That Jared stays by his side and holds his hand and tells him to breathe.

Evan starts to notice Jared is helping him when everything in his head quiets a little, and he can start to focus on Jared's breath and then he just starts to cry while panicking and _fuck._ Evan wants to be with Connor so bad. He wants to be held by him, to be kissed by him, to go on dates with Connor. He just wants Connor. His whole mind is constantly shouting Connor, Connor, Connor, Connor. 

It takes Evan a few more minutes, but when he's calm, all he does is hug Jared. And thank him. And he's so grateful to have the Insanely Cool Jared Kleinman as his friend. Even if he's a dick sometimes, Evan knows there's a very, very good side to him. He just wants to be tough. When the two of them have been down in the basement for more than twenty minutes, Brady decides to check in. Connor is very against this idea, because for all he knows, Evan could be crying. Jared could be crying. But, he's not gonna stop Brady from making a fool of himself. 

Brady walks down the stairs to the basement, and he turns his head to see the two boys sitting in the corner, Jared rocking Evan quietly. Evan has tears in his eyes. Brady doesn't see. "Guys!" It comes off a little harsher than intended, and both of them raise their heads to see Brady standing there, combing a hand through his golden brown hair, staring the two of them down. "Come back up." Also a little harsher than intended.

"S- so - sorry!" Evan shouts after him, getting up from Jared's arms and immediately running up the stairs. Jared is more than glad to have a friend like Evan, that he can do romantic shit with but not feel like they're dating. Because cuddling shouldn't fucking be romantic. It should just be platonic. Imagine a world where everybody can cuddle everybody, wouldn't that be fucking great?

A lot of time passes when they all start to get a little tired, and all need something to keep them up. For some specific reason, Zoe decides that they should play truth or dare until ten before midnight, so it's what they do. From eleven until ten before midnight, they play truth or dare.

"Truth or dare to..." Zoe makes everybody drum roll, and they all gladly do it. "Alana!" Alana straightens out her shirt, pretends to think about her answer, and then she leans into Zoe, taking a sip of her coke, and she laughs.

"Dare!"

"I dare you to go upstairs, get a bar of soap, and take a bite out of it." Alana's face scrunches up at the request, and she violently shakes her head. Eating soap was not her  
favorite way to spend time. "Then you take a clothing article off, you know the rules."

Alana looks around the circle, everybody else is fully dressed, aside from Connor being a smart ass and taking his belt off, and Jared being without pants on. Not because of the dares. Just because. She sighs, but gets up for the bar of soap, which honestly, Evan doesn't want to happen. He does not want a chunk bitten from his expensive soap, specifically designed for sensitive skin. 

Nonetheless, she comes downstairs, she takes a bite, she spits it out and tears up, and they move on. "Connor," Alana starts, but she gags on her saliva, "truth or dare?"

Connor sighs, looking at his options. Truth was like, scary as shit, but dares were all boring. So, "Truth."

"What's the worst thing that's ever happened to you?" About twenty things pop into Connor's head. He doesn't share any of them. He cannot share any of them, especially not with all the people around him that he barely knows. 

"I'd have to say that, when I was seven, I fell face first from the monkey bars. Very scarring. Literally." He tilts his head, and there's a tiny scar in between his nostrils. Zoe laughs a little, remembering the moment, and doesn't dare tell anybody that he's lying. Half lying. It happened. But it definitely wasn't the worst thing to ever have happened. Definitely, definitely not. "We have three minutes until ten before midnight, guys, come on!" Connor laughs, and he nudges Evan, who blushes back at him. He glares at Brady, who glares back and pops a breath mint into his mouth. Connor wants to strangle him really bad. "Evan!"

Evan's eyes pop up, questioning him, before realizing they're still playing. "Dare!"

"Alright, little man, I dare you to show the entire room your most prized possession." Evan has three things in his head. So he goes to his room to evaluate his options.

There's his laptop, which has been his savior for many, many years. It's been his source of research, of talking to Jared for most of their childhoods, and of talking to strangers just for fun. He then feels his phone in his pocket, and the number raises to four things in his head. His phone is everything to him, because it's the only place he can keep things from his mom. She goes through his laptop secretly sometimes, he hears her come in and grab it while he's supposedly asleep. 

His eyes turn to his drawer, where there's a small paper airplane necklace his mother gave him when his dad left. Evan remembers he asked his mom if she was leaving, too, and she told him not to worry, and she said she would always be right there with him. Just the two of them on each wing of the paper airplane. He smiles at the memory. He smiles a lot, in fact.

And then there's the tree stuffie. And Evan doesn't think before he grabs it into his arms and brings it downstairs immediately. Connor stares at him coming down in awe, smiling at the small boy with a stuffed animal in his arms and a blush on his face and fuck, Connor wants to kiss him now. He doesn't want to wait another ten minutes. "C- Co- Connor gave m- me it a- at Ch- Christmas." He hugs it closer, and he sits down next to Connor, smiling brightly at him. 

The room awes, aside from Brady, who takes another breath mint and huffs.

 

"Two minutes!" 

Connor's heart is racing. He's holding Evan's hand tightly, and he keeps glaring at Brady. He keeps looking at Brady and then at Evan and then at the clock on the TV and fuck. He just wants to kiss Evan. He just wants Evan. Evan. Evan. Evan.

Brady is on the other side of Evan, and he keeps staring at Evan. But not romantically. Lustfully. Connor doesn't like it. Evan is not to be lusted after, only to be protected. To be stuffed into his pocket and protected.

"One minute!" Zoe is cheering now, and Connor watches the counting with his eyes sparkling and he watches Evan's eyes sparkle and he swears he's going to fucking explode from being so fucking excited. So, so excited and so, so stressed and fuck, fuck, fuck, Connor loves Evan. Brady is visibly shaking, everybody can tell, and Evan can tell either his or Connor's hands are getting clammy.

He assumes it's his. It's really Connor's.

The countdown reaches ten seconds.

"Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one!" 

Out of nowhere, Evan feels another pair of lips on his.


	23. evan hates connor. sorta kinda.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor hasn't heard from Evan in exactly seventeen days. In fact, the only thing keeping him from thinking Evan is dead are Evan's daily texts of a letter from the alphabet. Just to let Connor know he's not dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hel o  
> thank u for Comments on last chapter i hope i frustrated everybody <3

Connor hasn't heard from Evan in exactly seventeen days. In fact, the only thing keeping him from thinking Evan is dead are Evan's daily texts of a letter from the alphabet. Just to let Connor know he's not dead. He's not that cruel. It's not like Connor hasn't gone to Evan's house to apologize, screaming and crying and begging for him to forgive him. He didn't mean for it to happen, but once it did, there was absolutely no way to stop.

He's been skipping school nearly every day, and the only class he would attend and pay attention in was Physics class. To take notes for Evan. To make sure that when Evan comes back, he has something for him. Fuck, Connor just wants to make it all right again. Connor wants to get rid of New Years.

_Brady leaned in closer to Evan, pressing their lips together and holding him by the waist. Evan noted that he tasted like mint, but also noted that he didn't know how to pull away. That he was frozen in place. That everybody around them were just staring, silently staring. Evan's eyes were wide open, his arms at his sides. He remembered seeing Connor's face before not feeling any lips on his anymore. He remembered seeing Connor's completely flushed face._

_"What the fuck are you doing?!" Connor shouted, it made Evan jump, Evan, who already had tears in his eyes, jumped backwards closer to Jared. He tried so hard to keep himself from shaking, but he couldn't. He couldn't. "You don't even fucking know him!" Evan had never seen him that mad. Evan had never seen Connor that aggressive, never heard him that loud._

_Brady pushed Connor backwards, closer to Evan, and it made Evan fall onto the floor in shock, knees to his face. Alana, Zoe and Jared all watched with wide eyes and closed mouth as distant celebrations were being heard in the background. "I've known him far, _far_ longer than you have!" _

_"Fucking liar!" Connor shouted back, and he pushed Brady back, making Brady topple over onto the floor._

_Brady laughed, and he got up, facing Connor again. "I've been getting closer and closer to him since third grade. When did you get to know him? Oh, right, fucking five months ago. Dumbass." Evan's eyes had widened. He stared up at Jared, who frowned and looked down at the boy with just as much confusion and worry. There was no way that Brady had known Evan since third grade. No way. Evan hadn't even seen him until last month. Jared knew. Jared knew him, right?_

_"I was there when you first met each other. I know you got his number through Kleinman. Don't try to play dumb with me!" Connor pushed Brady back on the floor, this time stepping onto his chest lightly so he couldn't get up. Brady coughed, and he laughed again. Jared jumped up from his seat next to Evan, shaking his head._

_"I don't fucking know this guy, don't associate me with him, Connor," Jared said, and Connor looked over at the shaky, scared Evan, back at the laughing Brady, and then to Jared. His eyes widened. Alana and Zoe walked upstairs. They didn't want to be involved. They didn't want to have any part in the Connor and Brady fighting. Zoe did not want to see her brother fighting anymore. "Why do you think I know him?"_

_He looked over at Brady, and Connor hung over Brady, knees to his sides, and the rest he doesn't know. The next thing Connor remembered was laying on the floor next to Brady with bloody knuckles, and staring at Brady's bloody and half broken face. Evan, however, remembered everything. He remembered the way Connor shouted at him for being a stalker. For kissing Evan. For stealing Evan. For lusting Evan. For being a creep. For making Evan cry. Little did Connor know that the real reason Evan was crying was because Connor had just beaten somebody to a pulp in front of his eyes, and because he had been yelling louder than he ever had before._

_When Connor realized his knuckles were bruised, bleeding, his eyes widened. His eyes widened at Brady's half-dead face, and he got up. And he yelled out an apology and he ran off. He didn't go home. He left his keys and his car at Evan's. But he ran. He ran and he slept inside of an old playground house and he cried and he texted Evan a thousand apologies._

Connor remembers getting texts from Jared telling him he fucked Evan up. That he brought back horrible memories. That Jared had to sleep with Evan in order to make sure he didn't go and do something stupid. He also remembers hitting his head into a pole a dozen times right after all of the texts. And he remembers smoking to try and get some relief, but not getting any. He didn't deserve it.

So, instead, Connor has been forced to see Brady's horrifically fucked up face for the past two weeks, after he had been in the hospital for three days. He was forced to see Jared taunting him. To see his sister avoid him again. That one hurts the most. His sister is avoiding him again. Zoe is afraid of him again, and he hates himself for it and he hates being a fucking failure and God, what even is emotional stability.

He's been self-harming in a number of different ways, too, from burning to cutting to watching videos to trigger flashbacks about what happened to him because that's all he ever deserves to experience. Trauma. Trauma is the only thing Connor is allowed to see, to feel, to know. It's all he knows. And he feels disgusting when he wants to have sex but really, really doesn't at the same time and he wants to masturbate but whenever he does it, he feels disgusting. And every bad thing that's ever happened to him, every bad thing that he's ever done, all hit him in the span of seventeen days. They hit him so hard that he doesn't find time in his days to relax, he doesn't find time to sit, to stand, only to stumble, to hurt, to ache.

His entire body is tired.

He can't make himself to even try and be rude to people. He can't even talk. When he's around people, he's so numb, and when he's alone, he's so broken. There's not a single emotion in between. It's just him hurting. Or it's him wanting to hurt, desperately trying to hurt, but not being able to. Connor is stuck in a loop of wanting to kill himself and not caring enough to kill himself.

So, yeah, totally, he doesn't even need Evan. He's doing just fine being ignored by him and feeling like a piece of shit. He's doing fine.

 

Evan is fucking miserable.

He can't stop praying, first of all. His three times a day praying sessions have become hours long. Begging for forgiveness. He's been crying in his room non-stop. He's been wanting to talk to Connor so bad, but he can't make himself. He hates Connor for doing what he did. For beating Brady up like that, for making him think about his dad. For making him think about his mother being the one getting so fucked up. 

He told his mom he kissed a boy. He said he didn't like it, that the boy forced him and that it felt disgusting and Heidi, God bless her soul, had said, "It doesn't matter to me, and I'm sure it doesn't matter to God, either. If you do like a boy, and if you did like it, you would still be a Jew, and you would still be the same person. You don't change because you kissed a guy." Evan didn't believe her. But it made him feel better. For about two hours

Evan can't muster up the courage to talk to Connor. He's scared of Connor. He knows he shouldn't be. God, he knows he shouldn't be scared of him, because Connor never means to do bad things like this, but he can't help it. Seeing it, hearing it, made it all too fucking real again and he doesn't know how to be okay anymore. He doesn't know how to stay Connor's friend, how to keep helping Connor, when he's seen this. When he's seen Connor like this.

But somehow, he still daydreams about Connor's eyes. About what he might be wearing today. About whether Connor is safe, or in school, or smoking pot again. Whether he's talking, whether he's overly sexual again, whether he's just in bed the whole time. He can't help but wonder what this boy is doing, and he wants it to stop. He wants God to tell him that he's a fucking idiot. He wants his mother to tell him he's an idiot for liking Connor, for still liking Connor, but she doesn't think he's an idiot. Heidi thinks her son is wonderful and that Connor is wonderful and that they want each other now that they've needed each other. 

Evan also hasn't really eaten in a while. A while being a day. Connor would kill him if he knew, and that warms his heart just a little bit. And then he thinks about what happens. And he has an anxiety attack, so, take one and lose one?

So, right after, he makes his way down to the kitchen, blanket slouched over his shoulders. His eyes are irritated and red, and he reaches for his meds. Same old, same old. _Or you could take all of them. After all, you got a new prescription. It'd probably be enough to kill you, since you failed so miserably last time. Your mother's just annoyed by a problem child like you, Connor thinks he's a horrible person because of you, Jared suddenly has to baby you all the time. Why not just end it? What's stopping you?_

Evan shakes his head, and swallows two pills, which isn't what he would usually do, but an extra one won't hurt him. He grabs for the orange juice in the fridge, gulps it down, and then heads back upstairs to his laptop. Where 'The Office' is on pause, and his tree stuffie is on his pillow, and there's three dozens of tissues. Evan is afraid he'll never go to school again. That idea's not so wild. Because Evan can barely walk to his own kitchen or stay awake for more than three consecutive hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey ! this is a LateUpdate but i got distracted by watching a falsettos bootleg and just lemmet ell you i m cryi ng? whizzeri lvove you?? marvin i am glad you wereso happu i lo v e false tt os
> 
> ITS ALSO VERY SHORT BECAUSE IM SUUUPER BAD AT SEPARATION ANGST?? LIKE ??? I NEVER KNOW WHAT TO WRITE SO IMSO RRY


	24. two letters.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Dear Evan Hansen,_
> 
> _See, I don't know why the fuck I'm writing this because you're never gonna see it lmao. Punctuation is gonna be Shit but I don't really care. These letters are just to ?? reconnect with you ?? Like, without you actually being here which I wish you were because God I miss you. I've been going fucking crazy in Physics, some guy saw that I looked even more tired than usual, and offered me a blowjob. I said yes. I'm very sorry. I tried to say no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hel o i am sorry for no update yesterday but this is a long one boys strap in
> 
> tw// suicide attempt

_Dear Evan Hansen,_

_See, I don't know why the fuck I'm writing this because you're never gonna see it lmao. Punctuation is gonna be Shit but I don't really care. These letters are just to ?? reconnect with you ?? Like, without you actually being here which I wish you were because God I miss you. I've been going fucking crazy in Physics, some guy saw that I looked even more tired than usual, and offered me a blowjob. I said yes. I'm very sorry. I tried to say no._

_I've been so sad without you here? It's like I didn't realize there was a huge chunk of my life missing until I'd gone a day without Evan Hansen. Without your stupid stupid little polo and your pretty eyes and your pretty smile and I hAte you Evan. I hate you because you're taking over !! my mind !! I can't stop thinking about you and I can't stop going to your house to drop off your favorite foods in baskets and I know you know it's me and I know the baskets are all in your house, but you're worth buying a new basket every single day. You're worth everything, God, you're the entire world. I'm so sorry for letting you see me as the monster that I am. I'm so sorry you can't see me as the normal Connor (normal? not normal, more like.. just suicidal Connor? The not manic Connor? Yeah, that one.) I wish I didn't break his nose and his jaw and I wish I didn't cause him to need surgery in his bottom lip, but I did._

_I feel like whenever I'm with you, things are better. Because I've been shit. My mom found my towel trickled with blood (stupid me, I know) so she made me give her my blades and anything I could hurt myself with. In turn, I've been taking scorching hot showers to make my skin itch and burn and to make wounds forget to heal. I don't like this. I don't think I've ever been this depressed. Ok. That might be a lie. But, it's really bad. I really wanna kill myself but I can't give myself the energy to do so. In fact, the only thing I have any energy for is showing up second block before lunch to attend our Physics class. I have all your notes._

_I also have blisters on my, well, everywhere, and I hope I can get them down with ice. I also hope to stop dreaming about you soon. It keeps making me sadder and sadder and sadder. It's only been a week without you but I'm )):_

_Sincerely, me._

Connor had started writing them when Evan hadn't been in school for a week. It started as notes describing how much he missed Evan, and then slowly became about him. And then slowly became more and more gay and more and more romantic and God, Connor is crazy, right? Like, that's the only way that this is real. Because now, Connor has a total of nine letters stacked on his desk, the longest one being four pages, the shortest one being half a page. 

He sort of wants to give the letters to Evan, sort of wants Evan to see them, to realize that Connor needs him. But that would be a bad thing to do. _Badbadbadbad, very bad thing to do._ He would rather not have Evan than guilt trip Evan into liking him. He would much rather spend his days getting high at the orchard than forcing Evan to sit with him while he does so. But then again, he really wants Evan back. Because he misses smiling. He hasn't smiled in a few days. 

He misses smiling from just seeing a person. He misses the way Evan would chase him down the hallway if he saw him. He misses the way Evan worried about stupid shit like if his hands were clammy or if his collar was straight or, Connor's favorite, if his shoe laces looked 'stupid'. Connor still doesn't know what it means. Point being, Connor isn't good by himself. He hasn't been getting into fights, sure, but his efforts in school have dropped very significantly. He got drug tested on the one day he wasn't high (thank God) and all of his teachers (literally, all of them) have told the office he looks depressed again. That he looks like he's going to slit open his wrists again or overdose again or try to hang himself again. Or maybe this time, go full psycho and shoot up the school while he's at it.

Connor doesn't want to do before seeing Evan one last time, though, so he lives on. He texts Evan throughout all of his school days, and he just lives on and tries to be okay and tries to not focus too much on all the guys staring at him when he's forced to change into sweatpants for gym class. Tries not to focus on the one guy that blew him three days back. Tries to not do anything bad. 

And for once, Connor feels a little okay in gym class. He always sits out, or he's forced to do it in his skinny jeans, but today, he participated. He did _something._ He runs around with the other guys, he does the stupid volleyball game (luckily his sweatshirt has holes for his thumbs, so it doesn't slide down) and he does the stupid stretches at the begin and end. He even talks to one of the guys. He seems nice. Okay, at the very least. He didn't make fun of Connor for having trouble running like the other kids did. He doesn't make fun of the way Connor talks, which, okay, he barely said a word. But, it's enough. He can't bring himself to care enough, he just misses that window, but that's okay. 

Because he doesn't really talk, he just sits and listens to the other guy (he thinks his name is Ian?) talk to him. Connor almost forgets about Evan, except when he's back in the locker room, and he checks his phone, it's there.

____

Connor chokes back a sob. It was thirteen minutes ago. Connor fucking failed him. _I failed failedfailed failurefailurefailure your best friend isn't safe and it's your fault. yourfaultyourfaultyourfault_ He runs into the stalls, and he completely ignores anything Ian is trying to tell him because fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Evan has never even used it before. He's never felt like he had to. _What if Evan is killing himself?_ Connor drops to the floor, eyes teary, crying for the first time in a while, and he runs a hand through his hair. He tugs at it, eyes foggy when he goes to Evan's contact and clicks call.

He clicks call and it rings. One ring. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. No answer. "Fuck!" Connor shouts, and he pounds his fists against the wall. He completely forgets that there's a bunch of guys in the room right next to this one. His breathing gets heavier, and he doesn't fucking notice that the guys are snickering in the other room and taking videos of the stall Connor is in. He calls again. 

No answer. He calls again. And again. And again. And again. He calls until he can't feel his fingers anymore and until all the laughter and cries of _freakfreakfreakfreakfreakfreak_ are the only thing still there. He cries, he cries so fucking hard, pounding against the door, because the guys have blocked his way out. The guys have blocked him. They're standing in front of the door. All of them. Blocking him.

Connor cries more, but it's an angry cry. He doesn't fucking think. He doesn't think when he pulls up his sleeves and he starts to scratch at the semi-closed wounds. When he sees blood seeping, he focuses again. Evan.

Evan, Evan, Evan, Evan, Evan.

He calls Jared. In panic. Which is the last thing he wants to do, because he doesn't want Jared of all people to know this is who he really is. But soon, everybody will know anyway. Everybody. One ring. Two ring. Three ring. He picks up. "What the fuck, Connor? It's still class, even if there's just ten minutes le-"

Connor has to scream to get louder than the voices outside of the stall. "Evan is in danger!" His eyes burn. His scars burn. His heart burns. God, God, fuck, please let this be fake. Please let it be a dream. Please let it be a sick, sick dream that Connor just wants to get out of. Please. He can hear Jared moving positions. 

"What?"

"He texted me, he texted me and he said- he said he's not safe. I was in gym- I- I- I- didn't know. He's not answering his phone, Jared, _fuck!_ "

Jared's breath hitches, a small gasp escaping his lips. "I'll call his mom."

"Please come to the gym locker room stalls and help me. I'm trapped." He hears Jared start to run, and Jared tells him a quick _okay_ before hanging up. Connor wants to die. Connor wants to die. He wants to die and he's trapped and he's being made fun of and he's being taunted and fuck, fuck, now it's not just voices outside not it's voices inside and _you're stupid. Stupidstupidstupidstupid and gross, you're so gross and you hurt Evan again and, and he's dead now- God, fuck, Evan is dead. Deaddeaddeaddeaddead._

Jared comes running into the locker rooms with Heidi on the phone, telling her everything, and she starts crying, and she tells him she'll head over soon, mumbling a quick, _my baby._ He storms into the crowd of guys, and he presses his ear to the stall, he doesn't have to put his ear to the stall in order to hear him sobbing and shouting, "My fault, my fault, my fault, my fault."

"It'd be more fun to see him out here, come on, boring ass bitches," Jared says, laughing, pretending like he's part of the crowd. They all laugh, nodding, their phones out. Jared watches as the four guys directly blocking the door step back, and he opens the unlocked door with Connor in it. He opens the door to Connor scratching open the red on his arms. To Connor sobbing and hitting himself. Jared pulls him up, pulls him up from where he was. And when his little crowd sees his scars, they're not laughing anymore.

Jared takes shaking Connor on his arm, rubbing his back, telling him he's okay. Telling him it will be okay. Heidi is on her way home. Heidi is on her way home. Evan will be okay. Evan is going to be okay. Connor doesn't stop hitting himself. Connor doesn't stop crying. When he's in Kleinman's car, in the backseat, he keeps scratching at the scars. They won't stop itching. He can't stop crying. "Connor, fuck, please stop, Please, please stop." Connor looks up at Jared, eyes red, fist still slamming into his forehead, cheeks coated in tears, bleeding arms out.

And then he realizes. 

Jared. Jared and everybody around him saw his scars. He's never showed anybody but doctors and Evan.

Fuck. 

He pulls his sleeves down, sticking his thumbs in the holes. His heart rate is still so high, his mind just crying _Evanevanevanevan._ He cries it out loud, too, and Jared notices Connor takes a fetal position after a while. He also notices that Connor's breathing is significantly heavier than his. As far as Jared knows, Evan isn't suicidal. Evan told him his self-harm was getting better, Jared believes him. Maybe he shouldn't have.

Connor knows it immediately when they reach the house because Heidi is about to enter the house, with tears covering her scrubs and panic spread across her face and Connor joins her. Connor jumps out of the still slightly moving car, hurting but okay, and he runs to Heidi. He stands next to her as she tries to unlock the door. She unlocks it. 

None of them move for a while.

None of them move as the door slowly opens. As the door reveals a perfectly set up living room and open kitchen. Too perfect. No left-over boxes. No trash. Nothing. Heidi's hiccups and Connor's muttering are the only things filling the empty space. Heidi is the first to step in, Jared follow, Connor is last. Connor is scared. Connor is so, so, so scared. Connor knows more than Heidi does. "S- s- sweet- sweetie?" Heidi yells out. No answer.

_No answer, no answer, no answer, no answer._

Connor doesn't hesitate to run upstairs. Connor doesn't stop until he's at the top and he reaches Evan's room and it feels like it takes a thousand minutes because Connor can't stop panicking. Connor can't stop looking at his hands. His hands he hadn't noticed were completely fucked from both hurting Brady and from knocking on the stall so hard just now. Evan's room is locked. It's locked. It's locked. It's locked. Connor can't breath. Connor looks behind him. Heidi and Jared stand there, scared, confused, panicked. Connor doesn't think. 

Doesn't think about how much it will cost. He kicks in the door. He kicks it in and it scares all three of them. He kicks it in and he looks around the room frantically. He sees the stuffie he gave Evan. Right on his desk. There's a note. Connor grabs it and he cries and _nonononononono._

_Hi_

_God, how do you even start this? How do I explain that I wanna die and that I've wanted to die for a long time now and that I'm finally doing it? How do I explain that I still love you guys but I can't keep living? How do I do this? I guess I'll just write it all out in one big messy paragraph then? What do I have to lose, right? So first of all, mom. I love you. I love you so much thank you so much for everything you've done for me thank you so much for everything. I don't want to leave you all by yourself but I've been feeling all by myself for so long. It's not your fault. I just require extra attention and that's a burden and I'm so, so sorry for not being a good enough son. I'm sorry for being fucked in the head. I'm sorry for being a bad kid, a bad person. I'm sorry for lying to you about being better. Sorry you had to find out by finding me with dozens of cuts over my body. Sorry I can't be a normal kid, can't connect with people. I'm so sorry, mom. You deserved a kid a million times better and instead you got me. I'm sorry I can never give you anything better. When dad left, I didn't know what to do. I know it's stupid blaming it on daddy issues. And it's not just that, I think we both know that that's not all. But recently, everything about dad has been hitting me so hard. Since you told me what he did to you, I've been seeing it and hearing his voice shout at you and when I have panic attacks, I can hear his voice shouting "What's wrong with him?! Shut him up!" and I need it to stop. I stopped taking my meds because I got too tired to go downstairs. Maybe I should've stayed with them._

_Ok. I don't know who else is gonna read this but I'm assuming that if I put Connor in, the police will notify him that he's in my note? Connor Murphy. Hi, hello. I'm sorry. I know this is like ridiculously selfish. I know you have it worse I know I shouldn't be doing this because it's fucking selfish but I don't know what else to do. After we lost touch, I couldn't function? It's horrible to depend on a person, especially if you're mentally ill. After everything happened with Brady, it just like, reminded me so much of my dad? I'm sorry. That must sound terrible but you deserve the truth. It's why I couldn't talk to you. It's why I couldn't text you anything but letters. I'm sorry. You don't remind me of my dad. What you did to Brady reminded me of my dad. I'm sorry for, well, dying on you. I hope you're okay. You're gonna be okay, Connor. I believe that you are and I believe that as soon as you get away from stupid Larry, you'll be okay. As soon as yu can get medicine and treatment and everything, you'll get better. I believe in you. Please don't give up. Please, please, please, please don't. I need you to not give up. I need you to try as hard as you can for me, okay? I still remember the first time we met. It's been like, what, six months? It feels like six days and six years at the same time. I've always had so much trouble connecting to people, but it came naturally for you. So naturally. Even if our first encounter was me dropping your sketchbook. And our second encounter was you seeing my second suicide attempt. How did we even become friends? Like, seriously? How the fuck did Connor Murphy and Evan Hansen ever get close to each other? How did we share so many secrets and feelings and fucking laughs? Talking about you is almost making me want to not do it. Damn it, Connor._

Connor's eyes go fuzzy after. Fuzzy enough so he can't fucking read the rest. His paragraph is still miles longer, followed with Jared's, but Connor doesn't fucking care. He only cares about the fact that the bathroom door is unlocked when he reaches to open it, and he only cares about Evan laying on the floor, with a bottle of his prescription empty in his left hand, and his phone displaying Connor's message in the other hand. With the message _I mde a mista_ beginning to get typed out in the bar.

Connor drops to his knees.

Heidi joins next to him.

Jared calls the police.

All they can do is stare. All Connor feels like he can do is stare. He's too scared. He's too fucking scared. He watches Evan's mouth gurgle, and he takes the pill bottle out of his hands, and he holds it. He holds Evan's hand. His cold, not moving hand. 

Connor doesn't even realize that the ambulance took Evan away until he's completely alone in the bathroom.


	25. another hospital. no trees.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He tries so hard, he tries so, so hard to block it out. Because the two times he listened to those fucking feelings, to those thoughts, he ended up in the hospital. So. No thank you. No thank you. Evan keeps repeating _No thank you._ He's going to explode. Surely, that's it. Surely his entire body is just going to explode. 
> 
> But then there's also something telling him, like, what if you succeed this time? What if you won't be hooked to IV drips to stabilize you and what if you won't end up waking up in a room that's too bright and a concerned face and what if, just _if_ you finally die? That's what you want. Evan. This is it. This could be it. No more suffering. No more medication to feel semi-normal. No more cutting or crying or panicking or being a freak. It'll all be gone.
> 
> Everything after that thought flashes by so fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys im so,, sorry for not updating for like five days? im,, i had it literally 90% done and then my fucking cousin deleted it so,,, awesome,,,,,,,,, and then i just had no motivation to write anymore i wanna fuckingDIE i hate this version the other one was way beter im sorry guys
> 
> TW: suicidal thoughts and suicide attempt pls stay safe <33

**6 unread messages from Conniee**

_hey_  
_im in a bad mood 2day might not text as much_  
_but like its u so i probably will_  
_lov u hope you had a good sleep_  
_pls make sure u have breakfast?_  
_school is gonna kill me especially physics without u_

Evan shifts in his spot on his twin sized bed. His eyes wander around the room, messages from Connor ranging from five in the morning to nine in the morning. He has to admit, he smiles a little. Connor still cares. But as soon as he smiles, he thinks back at what Connor did, and he starts to cry. He's been off his meds for just a little too long, and he could feel everything getting bad again. He can feel his stomach turning and turning, the word vomit always stuck in his throat, threatening to come out. He can feel his hands shaking, his body shaking, himself shaking.

But mostly, he can hear the bad thoughts coming back. Evan's social anxiety has always been more prevalent than his depression, but that's mostly because he knows how to hide his depression. He knows how to pretend. He knows how to act like nothing is tiring, like nothing is a burden. He knows how to act like a normal functioning human being, aside from social interactions. It's usually never hard for Evan to get out of bed, but these past two-ish weeks, it's been Hell for him. He feels like his legs can physically not move him anymore, but also, he doesn't fucking want to get up. Evan has stopped trying. He's stopped trying now because nothing really fucking matters, and without drugs he's just a _good for nothing, horrible, horrible, stupid fuck-up that can't think of anything but self-harm and something that happened over ten years ago._ Without drugs, he's a failure, a fucking mistake. And even with the meds, he's still fucked up. He still doesn't know how to function. He's still just a shadow of what he could be.

But they help him try.

And now, Evan hasn't taken them in thirteen days. So. Awesome. Evan feels like he's going to collapse from having a dozen panic attacks before noon. Evan also feels like he's going to collapse because he thinks it's the only thing left for him to do. He's basically already dead, right? Hasn't showed up to school in weeks, hasn't interacted with anybody but his mom in weeks. God, does he want to die.

Reading Connor's texts, Evan sighs. He's not gonna eat breakfast, because he doesn't have a fucking appetite anymore. He's lost like, ten pounds in two weeks, and he's not planning on trying to improve his unhealthy habits. But. He really does like it that Connor wants to check up on him. That Connor wants him back. He wants Connor back.

Evan has, at the very least, come to terms with being bi. He's realized, that, well, nobody fucking cares. He's also realized that he's a devoted Jew, but he's in no way an Orthodox Jew, so why should he follow Orthodox views? He accept liking boys. Just not- liking Connor. He's too afraid to like Connor. Connor is- well, Connor is sick, too. Possibly more sick than Evan is, possibly more fucked up and less likely to get better than Evan is. So, Evan is scared of liking him. Like always, because all he fucking does is be scared and shy away from things if they don't work and _fuck,_ Evan wants to die. This doesn't mean Evan is okay with being bi, it's just like- he knows it's like, there. It's not questioning it. He likes Connor. He wants to kiss him and hold him and, like, do gay things with him, so. Yeah. Bi.

But now, when he thinks of Connor, he thinks of everything bad before everything good. In fact, when he thinks of anything, he thinks of everything bad and then good. He wants to cry and shout and scream but really, he's just in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, and staring, and staring. No breakfast. No lunch. Only tears rolling down his cheeks and his scars itching when he thinks about doing it again and his head racing and everything yelling at him to _stop breathing, die,die, diediedie, nothing is worth it. Nobody will care. Die._

He tries so hard, he tries so, so hard to block it out. Because the two times he listened to those fucking feelings, to those thoughts, he ended up in the hospital. So. No thank you. No thank you. Evan keeps repeating _No thank you._ He's going to explode. Surely, that's it. Surely his entire body is just going to explode. 

But then there's also something telling him, like, what if you succeed this time? What if you won't be hooked to IV drips to stabilize you and what if you won't end up waking up in a room that's too bright and a concerned face and what if, just _if_ you finally die? That's what you want. Evan. This is it. This could be it. No more suffering. No more medication to feel semi-normal. No more cutting or crying or panicking or being a freak. It'll all be gone.

Everything after that thought flashes by so fast.

Evan's walking to his desk, he's writing now, he's writing and then he comes to Connor's part and he feels like he's going to throw up because he just wants Connor to be okay. Please. This time everything will be fine, he'll succeed and it will all be fine. He writes with this in mind.

_And I really hope I die because I don't want you to know that I like you a lot. In the way that I shouldn't._

Evan lays his pencil down. He climbs from his window back to the front door, to make sure people found his note before they found him, and he's completely numb. Evan thinks it's horrifying how numb he is. His entire mind is numb. He feels so fucking numb. He looks around, and everything is a mess. At least he can leave them with an okay impression of him, right? So he takes the trash he was supposed to take out days ago. He doesn't even care that the neighbor sees him with tears down his cheeks. He doesn't fucking care. He'll be dead in no more than an hour. Hopefully. If it all goes okay. He cleans the counters.

It's like saying sorry.

He checks his pill bottle. If he's right, there's only about 180 mg of Xanax in there. He needs to mix it with something else. Three months worth of Xanax is not enough. He reaches into the fridge, finds Heidi's three bottles of beer, and he hates the taste, but he doesn't give a fuck.

He starts to down it. Half a bottle after a handful. Half a bottle after a handful. Six times. Evan feels like he's already dead by the time his pill container is empty and his empty beers are back in the fridge. He walks upstairs, eyes flickering and his hands numb, feet numb, everything still numb and he feels like he's finally dead but then.

Then he fucking remembers everything good.

He remembers his and Connor's sleeping at the orchard. He remembers his mother ordering him pizza on the first day of high school so he wouldn't feel so scared. He remembers the good parts of the New Years party. His friends. He remembers his friends. He remembers how Alana was finally not afraid to call them her friends. He remembers how Zoe hugged him when she first saw him coming from upstairs. He remembers Connor holding his hand. He remembers watching Connor draw, telling him that his eyes are pretty. He remembers his mother the first time he tried to overdose. He remembers how scared she was to lose him. He remembers and he doesn't want to. He remembers and all he remembers is good and suddenly, nothing bad is there, or was ever there, and he starts to cry and he pulls out his phone as fast as he can. He remembers his texts with Connor. He remembers Connor staying with him after he let go. He remembers it all.

_Why did I do this?_

He sends Connor one text.

____

And just when he starts to type out the other, he can feel his muscle start to twitch. He feels so sick. No longer in control. Dead. Surely he's dead. Surely he's dead the one time he doesn't want to be. God, Evan wants to cry and scream but he can't do anything. He wants to yell for help, but all he can do is lay there and feel himself slowly drifting away, further away, further and further until he can't feel anything anymore.

 

Evan wakes up.

Kind of. He kind of wakes up. He can't bring himself to open his eyes or talk, and his mouth is nothing but dry, but he can hear. He can hear people talking. Faintly. "Mrs. Hansen, we... he might... so sorry." It's all Evan picks up on. It's all Evan hears. It's all Evan hears before he hears his mom and _his Connor_ both cry. 

He wants to yell, "I'm not dead," but he can't. He can't and he doesn't know if he's still alive or if this is him as a ghost or if this is him hallucinating in the afterlife but he wants it back. He wants to hug his mother. He wants to comfort Connor. He wants to see them. He needs to see them. He needs to. He pushes. He tries so hard. He tries to cough, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe and then-

"Ah-" 

It's one sound. But everybody in the room turns to Evan. Evan who slowly opens his eyes and feels like he's going to throw up and Evan who just overdosed. Evan who tried to kill himself less than 24 hours ago. Evan who wanted to die. Evan. Evan. They're all on Evan. The doctor, Evan doesn't know his name, tells hopeful Connor and hopeful Heidi and less hopeful Jared to get out of the room. 

"Hey, Evan," the doctor says. Evan thinks he looks like a Timothy. "Do you know what happened?" Evan tries to talk. Nothing comes out aside from small sounds, forming vaguely into _water, please._ He gets a glass. Timothy (Evan still doesn't know) tilts the water into his mouth, and Evan swallows dryly. He sees the half eaten Jello next to him. He asks for the container. The doctor feeds it to him. "I'm Dr. Liason. Evan, how do you feel?"

"L- l- l- like shi- sh- shit." It's not a lie. He feels disgusting and sick and his skin feels tight even when he's eating the Jello and he just wants to cry. When he was thirteen and overdosed on like, ten Lexapros, they pumped his stomach and discharged him five hours after. He told them it was an accident. He couldn't do that this time. He was going to get a psych evaluation. "A- am I-" He coughs, tears springing in his eyes, "gonna g- go t- t- to the ps- psych ward?"

The doctor chuckles a little. Evan doesn't laugh with him. "We might have to hold you for a day or two, depending on if you're stable." The doctor took out a clipboard. "Because, honestly, we all thought you would die. You almost chocked on your own vomit, we pumped you and had you drink charcoal water. You're on a lot of painkillers right now, do you maybe want to hear all of this some later time?"

Evan shakes his head. Dr. Liason continues. "Your friends and your mom have been sitting here the whole time, they were very scared, Evan." It hurts Evan to hear it. It hurts a lot, a lot, a lot. He can't imagine the three of them sitting there until Evan woke up, he doesn't want to. "I'll send our psychiatrist in a few hours to evaluate your mental state. You're not completely physically stable yet, either. We'll have some lunch ready for you in a bit, too."

Evan's head is pounding. It's too much to take in. "C- c- can my m- m- mom co- come in?" Dr. Liason smiles, and he nods, and he goes outside to fetch Heidi.

He wasn't quite prepared for the mess his mother was. His heart sinks thinking about how she would have been if he actually dies. He shivers thinking about it. But he still wants to die. That's the fucking horrible part about it all. All the bad feelings are back. "Honey! Oh, God, my sweetie." There's still tears on her cheeks. They're both pretending like there's nothing there. "How are you, honey?" She touches his arm gently, and he doesn't move it back, and a tears falls from his cheek to his mother's hand.

"I- I- I- I'm so- sorry."

"I love you." Heidi starts, kissing his hand, "Don't you dare ever forget that again. I love you so much, Evan."

They're both crying. They're both shaking. They're crying into each other's arms and they're repeating _I love youIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou_ like they've never said it before and Evan hates himself for doing this to his mom. Hates himself. Hates himself so much. He's so scared of feeling this way. He's so scared that nobody will ever understand and he's so scared.

But he decides that that's okay. He decides it's okay when Connor comes into the room with a stuffed bear almost as big as himself, and he places it down onto the chairs, and he smiles at Evan's pale face and he takes his hand and sits down. "How do you feel?"

Evan feels at peace now. That's what he wants to say. "Okay." Evan can see the redness of Connor's eyes and he can see the hand prints on Connor's face and he wonders why Connor hits himself so much. He doesn't ask. 

"I'm sorry, Ev." Connor looks up. He looks at Evan and he looks vulnerable but certain and Evan thinks he's beautiful. "I didn't mean to make you think of your dad. I didn't mean to do what I did. I'm so sorry, Evan." He kisses Evan's hand. Evan tears up again. "My mom's divorcing Larry. I think I'll be getting treatment soon." And Evan feels so, so, so relieved. And he smiles at Connor and he lifts his lips to Connor's hand to kiss it, too. Connor helps. Evan is too weak.

"I- I- I- I'm so- sorry-"

"I know how you felt. It's okay. Please don't apologize." Evan has never seen Connor _this_ calm. He rubs his thumb on Evan's hand, and he smiles again. "I love you, Evan."

It shouldn't hit him as hard as it does, but Evan grows a smile from ear to ear. And his weakness seems to fade for just a second when he softly reaches over to Connor, and he kisses him. And he wants to do it harder. And Evan wants to melt into it and take control and kiss him to let him know his passion, his need, his want, but he can't. And instead, he kisses him like he means it. He kisses Connor like he loves him, too. And he breaks it off. And Connor is red. And Evan is red. And they're holding hands and fuck-

Evan is going to cry.

Good cry. Very good cry. Because Connor kisses him back again. And Evan doesn't know how to do this. He's never really kissed before, but he doesn't care because it's Connor. It's fucking Connor. Because Connor makes it all feel like everything is more than okay, and he makes it all feel like it'll get better, and it's better and he just wants to keep kissing him forever. He just wants to stay like this. He wants to stay like this with Connor's lips on his and with their hands softly squeezing. Evan is sure he's not supposed to put this much saliva on Connor, but Connor doesn't seem to mind.

And then Connor pulls away. Evan is confused, his eyebrows furrowed. Connor moves further from him, and he twiddles his thumbs and he looks like he's going to cry and Evan is going to cry because suddenly, Connor is quiet and sad and not holding his hand. "Wh- wha- what's wrong?"

Connor takes a shaky breath, "I- you probably only did that because- because you're like high on painkillers and I love you, fuck, I love you and you probably don't feel the same way and when you wake up a second time you won't even remember any of this and you'll hate me again because I don't deserve anything and I- I- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for ruining you and for making you do this and I'm sorry for forcing you to kiss me, because I'm _gross_ and-"

"Yo- you're beautiful." Evan doesn't say anything else. He reaches out his arm, flinching, because the IV drip is in that arm, and he touches Connor's cheek softly. "I- I- I- I'll still th- think that when I- when I- wake up again."

"I'm disgusting, Evan! How could you ever-" Connor starts to cry. He doesn't finish his sentence, tears pouring from his eyes. He starts pounding his fist on his temples. Evan doesn't know how to help. "I'm _nothing._ " Evan reaches out again, this time aching towards his hand, and Connor lets him take it. He lets him squeeze it. Slowly, Connor moves closer again. "God, I'm so selfish. You just tried to kill yourself and I'm making it all about me."

"H- honestly I- I- would ra- rather not talk about me- about me trying to- to-"

Connor nods. Connor knows. Evan still wishes he didn't. He wishes Connor had no idea how he feels. "I love you, Evan."

"I l- lo- love you, Co- Connor." 

Connor smiles through tears and it makes Evan smile and he kisses Connor's hand and then he kisses Connor's lips and then he smiles against his lips and then everything fucking feels fine. It all feels fine. It feels okay and sturdy and like he can breathe and he can feel enough but not too much and he wants to feel Connor like this for forever. He wants to hold his cheek and his hand for forever. He wants to kiss Connor until he dies.

Connor feels exactly the same.


	26. prom discussions and kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Evan is so soft. So gentle, in the way he speaks, in the way he walks and the way he approaches. His clothes have gentle colors, slightly faded blues, his eyes are always soft, always huge, always so, so fucking perfect. His face is soft and his arms are soft and his laugh, his smile, God, his smile is soft. Everything about Evan Hansen is soft except for the way that he kisses Connor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helo so i dont really like this chapter uh i did first but then i read it over again and :c but hopefully u still like it!!! sorry for the very long pause between updates; school is killing me. ap us history is NOT FUN

Evan now has two meetings per week with Dr. Sherman instead of just one a month. He's been back to school for two weeks, and honestly, everything was exhausting. He had six classes to make up for (excluding PE, and Physics because Connor is amazing and did his work for him.) It's been stressing Evan out, so his mother has been taking days off to help him with his nearly three weeks of missed work (because what's a better excuse than "My son tried to commit suicide and was in a psych ward for 48 hours.") She's been helping him majorly. Very, very majorly.

But, things have been weird between him and Connor. Evan has no idea why. Connor can't stop thinking about the kiss. Connor can't stop thinking about the fact that Evan doesn't fucking remember their kiss. Connor wants to die because of this, and also wants to ignore Evan as much as possible. It's kind of unavoidable, though, when he eats lunch with the boy. And recently, Zoe and Alana have added onto Jared, Connor and Evan for lunch time. Which was thrilling, of course, but very unusual for Evan. They knew about his suicide attempt; only because he had accidentally blurted it out and just kept talking and talking and _talking._ Until they knew everything. Zoe knew before that, though, because she remembered a conversation her and Connor had shared. About a certain kiss. But, the fact that they knew about him trying to kill himself wasn't what made it weird or unusual, it was the sense that he belonged somewhere. When previously, the only place he belonged to was the corner of the library. 

Zoe is the one to mention prom. It's not like it's very soon, in about four months, actually, but none of them seem to mind because she's excited. And that makes them all quite a bit happy. "Evan, are you going? I know Connor is like _definitely_ not going to be there, but the rest of us will be!" Evan plays with his fingers. He's scared, like, really scared. Because if Connor isn't there, who's going to hold him during his very inevitable panic attack there? Or who's going to dance with him? Who's he going to match with and who will he smile with and fuck around with and- "Evan?"

"S- so- sorry! I- I- I- s- s- spaced out." His tone of embarrassment is very, very clear, and his entire face turns red. Connor looks over, and softly grabs his hands, squeezing it. It makes Evan smile. It makes Zoe smile more. "I- I- don't kno-"

"If you want me there, I'll come." Connor says it like it's no big deal, eating the sandwich Evan made for him and shrugging. How the fuck can Connor Murphy read his mind, anyway? Evan turns even more red, if possible, and squeezes Connor's hand back. Zoe swears she's gonna die from being so fond of watching Connor be fond of Evan. 

"Yes, please."

Alana smiles brightly, standing up, "So it's settled! Connor and Evan will match, Zoe and I will match, and Jared will..." She trails off, looking over at Jared, who's definitely fake pouting. It makes Evan giggle, and that makes Connor' stomach flip. _Cute._ Evan also turns red at the notion of matching with Connor, wearing something that relates to Connor. Connor. "Erm, Jared will find a date to match with!"

"But, like, so many things could happen in four months," Connor says suddenly, letting go of Evan's hand because his own was starting to get clammy and he knew that if his hands got clammy, Evan would worry that it were his hands getting clammy and then his hands _would_ get clammy and Connor did _not_ need to freak Evan out like that. Everybody stares over at Connor in confusion, who looks down at his hands, biting down on his lip. "I don't know, like, I could drop out of the group or like- kill myself or something. Evan could become even more anxious than he already is, Alana could be so overwhelmed with all of her work that she starts like, combusting and Zoe could start hating me, or she could-" Connor stops himself, breathing heavy and now standing up. He clears his throat. He looks around at the people sitting at the table with him, eyes filled with pure worry. "I should- I should go."

"C- Connor!" Evan yells out, chasing the boy to the one place he knew he would be, the field exposed to the highway. Connor had told him early on in their friendship that he likes this specific field because it feels dangerous. He likes feeling like he's in danger. Connor also likes that there's trees, and Evan likes sitting in them. Connor likes watching him climb. 

Evan finds exactly who he was looking for on the field, Connor, sitting on the fence that lead to the highway. Sitting and watching and Evan knows he's smoking and Evan knows he has tears in his eyes and God, he doesn't want to hurt this boy anymore. He doesn't want to see him hurt. He walks the long way up to the half-fence, and he sits down right next to Connor. Who, does in fact have tears in his eyes. And who is also in fact smoking. "C- C- Connor?"

"Hm? Hi, Ev." He looks next to him dismissively. "Poking fun at the freak?"

Evan immediately scrunched his face in confusion, shaking his head. "W- why w- wo- would I..?" He doesn't finish his sentence, instead scoots closer to Connor. "Gi- give me a t- taste." Truth is, Evan has been incredibly curious about weed ever since he's met Connor Murphy. He wants to know the taste, the experience, the fucking everything. He's always too afraid to ask, now's the time.

Connor laughs, actually laughs, almost cackles, and it makes Evan shrink back into himself, apologizing. "Shit, sorry," Connor takes another drag, and then hesitantly hands it to Evan. Evan stares up, and he pretends like he's super fucking cool and does this all the time and he just- _gulps._ And with no failure, he falls into an extreme fit of coughing, holding Connor's shoulder and giving him back his weed, tapping out. Connor laughs now, too, but in an endearing way. A good way. 

Evan reaches into his bag for a water, and Connor smiles, putting his arm around the boy. "Wh- what's w- w- wrong?" Evan asks when his breath is finally not clouded with weed anymore, and Connor shrugs, arm still around Evan.

Lying happens to be one of Connor's specialties. "Stressed about my mom divorcing Larry. It's just gonna be the three of us now." Which, a little true, he was scared, but it wasn't his main thing. His main thing was Evan not remembering that they fucking kissed. And that Connor cannot stop thinking about it. Fuck. "How have you been since the hospital?" 

Evan pulls at the loose threads of his polo shirt, and he turns red and he leans closer to Connor because it's so scary that Connor knows. That Connor knows he wants to talk about it but doesn't wanna be selfish or hurt anybody or make anybody annoyed with his constant talking. "B- bad." Connor nods, as a sort of nudge to keep talking. He always wants him to keep talking. "No- nothing ch- ch- changed. I just. I feel the s- same? All- all the time? T- the only di- difference is that- that I'm- I'm- also stressed about schools now. A- and my mom keeps trying to push these college essays on me. And I just- Connor, it sucks so much? Like, right after I did it and I started feeling bad, all the good things came back, it's why I texted you but then- then- now- now all the- all the bad things are back again and they feel like so much and like so much at the same time and I'm just getting _crushed_ and I wish I'd died, Connor-"

"Slow down, Ev." He pulls the boy closer, and he wants to kiss the top of his head so bad. It seems perfect. "I'm really glad you lived." He says it like it has no meaning. Like they're not talking about suicide. God, he even takes a fucking smoke right after. "I care about you. Like, a lot. And if you died I don't know what I would have done. When we found you I kinda froze up and stopped thinking and moving and I didn't even know they took you away until like, ten minutes later." Connor squeezes Evan's shoulder, Evan who is breathing just a little heavy. "I love you," he mutters it, but Evan hears it, and he smiles, and he leans closer again. 

And Connor wants to tell him so bad. He wants to, needs to, tell Evan that they kissed. That they shared so much intimacy, but he fucking can't. He can't bring himself to. He can't fucking do it, and he wants to, but he can't. It would confuse Evan too much. "I'm bi." It flew out of Evan's mouth, and he giggles right after he says it, shutting his hands before his mouth. Connor laughs, too, and squeezes him again. "I- I- I- haven't s- s- said it out l- loud yet a- and this s- seemed like a- a good time."

"Thanks for telling me." And he looks down at Evan. And for a second, just a second, he wants to kiss him again. Pretend like Evan won't freak the fuck out. But now Evan is looking back at him and the second he was thinking about kissing him turns into minutes and he's completely lost in Evan's innocent, sweet, lovely, fucking amazing face and he needs to kiss him, he needs to, he needs to- "Please kiss me. Just- just for a second, you don't have to do it ever again and we don't have to talk about it, I just- I want you to kiss me so bad and I can't _fucking_ wait anymore-"

And Evan is so soft. So gentle, in the way he speaks, in the way he walks and the way he approaches. His clothes have gentle colors, slightly faded blues, his eyes are always soft, always huge, always so, so fucking perfect. His face is soft and his arms are soft and his laugh, his smile, God, his smile is soft. Everything about Evan Hansen is soft except for the way that he kisses Connor.

Because he kisses him like the world is crumbling around them and this is the only way to stay alive. He kisses Connor and he cups his face and he puts their lips together and he kisses and kisses and his hands tangle in Connor's hair and Evan is going to die. Because he's in control and he's kissing Connor, Connor, Connor, Connor. And he loves Connor and he loves kissing Connor and he loves smelling him and touching him. Connor's lips taste like weed, and Evan doesn't even mind. Evan's lips taste like mint, and Connor expected nothing less from him. When Connor has finally established that Evan is in fact kissing him, he's the one to take control back.

Evan is too small, too tiny, too pure, too fucking soft to be in control. Too gentle. And Connor drops his stupid blunt on the floor and he grabs Evan by his waist and he smoothly separates their lips and presses them back together, this time so that he leads and Evan is trying to move along with him and it's kind of obvious Evan hasn't done this before, but Connor doesn't mind. He doesn't mind because it's Evan. And that's all that matters. That Evan is kissing him. That Evan is kissing him while not on painkillers, that they have a kiss that they will both remember. That their kiss is so full of passion and want and love and-

Connor is going to choke when he hears the little whine come from Evan's mouth. Because, _no,_ stop being so fucking soft. Stop. He scoots further into the brick fence they're on, and he grabs Evan by the thighs, separating them for a second, and he softly puts him down on his lap. Soft. And then Evan's lips are back on his and it's passion and it's heat and Evan wants _more, more, more, more,_ wants to do this forever. Wants to be loved by Connor forever. But. He's the first to break it off for longer than a second. Because he's exhausted. And he wants to stare at Connor. And he wants to hug Connor and thank him but then he also wants to kiss him again and again and again and fuck, Evan is dying, isn't he?

"That-" Connor talks first, and he stares at Evan taking short sloppy breaths, completely red. So red. His entire body is probably flushed and Connor smiles just thinking about it. He holds Evan by his waist, balancing them, and Evan's hands are at Connor's nape. Connor can't say this isn't a position he's been dreaming of being in for months, now. Literally. "I didn't know Evan Hansen was capable of that." Evan giggles and Connor kisses him again and it scares Evan and it scares Connor, but for now, that's okay. Even if this only lasts for another five more minutes, they're going to stretch that time as much as possible.

"S- s- s- sorry for be- being sl- sloppy." Connor laughs, and he shakes his head, and they hold each other and they sit like that and Evan wants to kiss Connor again. 

"Thank you." It makes Evan lean into Connor's chest, arms wrapped around each other. "Thanks for kissing me like- like I mean something." Evan's heart breaks when Connor's voice cracks. "Haven't felt this good in quite a while." Evan hugs him tighter. Connor holds Evan like his life depends on it. That's all they really need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls leav a comment i Cry at all of them they are greatly appreciated


	27. two boys making a big deal of a kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor pretends like it didn't happen.
> 
> He doesn't know why. Maybe because Evan hasn't brought it up either, maybe because he's too afraid of the fact that he like Evan. Too much -- and that his stupid polo shirts are finding a way into his nightly thoughts. _They kissed._ And it felt like everything Connor has ever wanted; like passion, like love, like care, like _want._ But, he's not fucking ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY ONCE AGAIN FOR THE LIKE FOUR DAYS WITHOUT AN UPDATE I HAD SO MUCH HOMEWORK AND I ENDED UP SEEING A FALSETTOS SCREENING NEAR ME LIKE LAST MINUTE WHEN I WAS SUPPOSED TO UPDATE AAHHH

Connor pretends like it didn't happen.

He doesn't know why. Maybe because Evan hasn't brought it up either, maybe because he's too afraid of the fact that he like Evan. Too much -- and that his stupid polo shirts are finding a way into his nightly thoughts. _They kissed._ And it felt like everything Connor has ever wanted; like passion, like love, like care, like _want._ But, he's not fucking ready.

He's not ready to have Evan fall in love with him, to fall in love with Evan, to cry more to Evan, to kiss him more. He's so fucking scared. So. He decides to make a plan, to get Evan to stop liking him. And they'll never kiss again. Or maybe Connor will try to fuck him in frustration and Evan will push him off and Connor will be so embarrassed that he never attends school again. Connor decides he's going to be an asshole. He decides that this is the only way for Evan to get somebody better than him, and for him to get somebody worse than Evan. Somebody he deserves. Because God knows Connor does _not_ deserve somebody as great as Evan Hansen. 

Though, this plan is difficult to execute. Especially when Evan has started talking a liking to texting Connor at _2 A.M._

_Hey, are you up?_

_ofc i am hansen_

_:c Mean._

_ur texts always sound so passive bc they're so formal_

_:O_  
_You used an apostrophe._  
_I've never been so proud._

_shut uupppp_

Connor can't get more mean. He can't make himself more angry at Evan. He can't force himself to throw insults to him or to ignore him. It's all playful. Connor wants to die because nothing ever goes the way he wants it to go.

_You're so mean to me recently jeez._

_oops_

_You okay?_

_im fine, evan. god._

_You never use punctuation._  
_Sorry for asking. Talk to Zoe about it, at least?_

And Connor narrows his eyes because, well, it doesn't seem like that bad an idea. It seems like a good idea, even, to ask Zoe for love advice. Seeing that Connor has had... _horrendous_ experiences with anything even remotely romantic, it seems completely logical. He'll even keep Evan's name out of the explanation. Perfect plan. Flawless plan. Nothing can go wrong.

So, at 2:30 in the morning, Connor walks from his air mattress on the floor to Zoe in her bed next to him, shaking her lightly. It doesn't wake her. He sighs, running a hand through his hair and dumping his phone on her bed. He sits down now, softly moving her back and forth. Connor knows that this is just a little cruel, seeing that she has to get up in 2 and a half hours, but, it doesn't really hit him how little that amount of sleep is. It's what he runs on. It doesn't bother him. "Zoe?"

Her eyelids flicker, and Connor slowly starts to regret waking her when he sees how tired she is. He shrinks into himself -- but doesn't let her see. "Connor?" She sits up slowly, rubbing her tired eyes and turning on the lamp on her nightstand. She flinches at the bright light, but her expression changes quickly when she sees Connor. Connor looks scared. It's one of his rarest emotions, and Zoe knows, she just _knows,_ that he hates it. "What's wrong?"

"I like a guy," he blurts, and it's not because it's a _guy,_ it's because he likes somebody. He never does. "I need your advice. I've never- never liked anybody like I like him and I don't wanna hurt him, but I know that if I keep doing what I'm doing, I will."

Zoe looks at him, with him not looking back, and she frowns. "What are you doing to him, then?"

"I'm playing games." He runs a hand through his hair. "I asked him to kiss me and then forget about it. Like, last month, and we haven't talked about it. And I keep _flirting_ with him and leading him on because usually, when I do this kind of thing, I get fucked and go home-" Zoe scrunches her nose up. "But this is- it's different. I really like him, Zoe. I really, really, really like him but he-"

He doesn't finish his sentence. Zoe wishes he did. "Why are you scared?"

Connor snorts. Zoe looks down because she knows. She just wants him to say it. To stop ignoring it. To stop pretending like he'll just _forget._ "I don't- Connor, you can't treat a boy you like as a game. If he means something to you, tell him. If you mean something to him, it'll all go okay. Did he kiss back when you kissed?"

 _Like Hell, yes. I don't think I've ever seen that much passion in him, not even when talking about tress._ "He did."

"Did he kiss back like he wanted it, too?" Connor thinks. Connor knows the answer is yes. But, how could it be? After all he's put Evan through. The screaming, the self-harm, the ultimate fucking drop of the bucket to make it overflow. He knows he's not good. He knows he's fucked Evan up, but he didn't mean to. Connor never, ever means to. 

"Yes." Connor's face drops. He wants Connor. He wants the pain that comes with Connor. He doesn't want to give him the pain that comes with being with him. That's why he has to do this. "I think I need to be mean to him. So he won't like me. I need to hurt him enough to- to drive him away. He deserves the fucking world and I can't give it to him and-"

" _Calm down._ " Zoe puts her hand on his shoulder. "Don't do that. Don't make yourself less worthy of love than others, Connor."

He snorts again. It breaks Zoe's heart when she sees the tears now wetting his cheeks, and he's softly tugging at his fingers, trying to crack his knuckles time and time again. "I- Connor, is it," she takes a breath, not wanting to upset him, "is the guy _Evan?_ " Connor nods, and he looks instantly ashamed. Like having her know who it is makes the talk a dozen times worse. "You can't treat _him_ like that. He'll ki- _die,_ Connor." She doesn't need to say it. _Kill himself._ He would. He would let it all get to his head, he would try again, he might succeed. The fact scares both of them.

"It's part of why I'm scared, Zoe." He sniffles, and without thinking, he joins her in laying down, tucked into the corner. "I don't want to hurt him. But I'll hurt him more if I- if I let him fall for me."

"Connor, he's already there." She takes his hand, giving it a light squeeze and giving him a lopsided smile. "He's been falling. He's almost hit the bottom, Connor, and you need to be there to save him. To hold him and kiss him and be with him. I see the way he looks at you. I see the way you look back at him, it's crazy how neither of you realize just how much you mean to each other.

"I mean, seriously, Con, I thought you were already dating him and just afraid to tell me. I- I- don't know what to say. I want you to be with him if that's what you want. If it's best for _you,_ go for it. If you know this is going to help you, if you know he kissed you back with just as much passion, go for it. He likes you. He wants you, too." Connor still finds it impossible to believe.

"Why would he ever want _me?_ " Zoe wants to scramble together every broken piece of Connor and glue it all back together because her brother is dying. His body is being ripped in half and it's almost completed an entire tear and it hurts, it hurts so fucking much to see him in this pain, to see him cry, hear his voice crack. So instead of saying anything, she wraps her arms around his skinny body, pressing him close and letting him cry. 

Because that's all he needs right now.

 

"Kicked your ass again!" Jared laughs at Evan, who's very, very clearly disinterested in the game they're playing. Even though it's his favorite, Little Big Planet. Jared knows he tried to kill himself a month ago, but like, _lighten up._ He rolls his eyes at Evan's blank stare, and they start a new game, and Evan does nearly nothing except punch Jared in the face repeatedly. In the game, of course. 

"Dude, seriously, what's bothering you?"

And see, Evan could very easily think of an excuse. _New meds, sorry. Thinking about college, scary stuff, man. Pissed you're not letting me win._ But instead, he pauses the game, and he faces Jared. "I t- t- think C- C- Connor is m- m- mad at m- me." It's in a voice that's soft, even for Evan, and Jared pulls his attention on Evan. It's important that Evan is okay. It's important. Jared's gonna be here for him this time. "H- he's b- b- been mean a- and hasn't s- s- sat with us fo- for lunch.

"I n- n- need to t- tell you so- something." Jared braces for the worst. _I have cancer. Connor might be dead. I hate you._ "Like, like, a m- m- month ago- I- I- m- me and Connor, we kissed and it was really good and it felt so right and I was so happy and I- I- wanted to do it more and more every time I saw him but I don't think he likes me, I think he regrets kissing me and he regrets asking me to kiss him.

"I'm scared and I don't want him to hate me, I want him to want me like I want him because I really, really want him and I want to- I- I- want to be happy, you know? I wanna be happy with him because I've never felt happier than when we kissed and it felt so good, Jared, it felt so good and like- like- we were together and it was warm and nice and beautiful and- and I loved it and I want it back." Evan did not breath once until then.

Jared is more than shocked by all the words that just came out of his mouth.

Because _for starters, when the fuck did Evan figure out he liked guys?_

Jared turns to face Evan completely, and he it's clear that Evan is completely ashamed of himself, because he's not only bright fucking red, he's also hyperventilating just a little bit. _Just a little._ But, to show that it's okay, Jared rests his hand on Evan's shoulder, smiling softly. Evan's body shocks up, tears in his eyes, but he starts to calm down. 

He knows Jared doesn't hate him for this.

"Evan, first of all," he moves closer to Evan, "Connor is probably just too- I don't know, overwhelmed? He's come to my house a few times the past two weeks to play video games, that was a very rare occurrence before." It shouldn't make Evan boil with jealously, but it does. Because Connor would rather talk to Jared than him. That _hurts._ "I think he doesn't know what to do because he wants it back, too."

"Well, h- h- how do you t- think I feel?!" Evan shouts, shrinking into his shell right after and becoming conscious of the fact that he's not the only person in the house. He's just so used to that. "I- I- I- fo- found out I- I- like- like _guys_ like- like- a month ago, Jared. I- I- still do- don't l- like feeling this way." 

Jared sees the way Evan feels. He can feel it all coming off of him, he can feel all of his self-hatred because of something so small as _being gay._ "It's okay, Ev." He rubs his friend's back, pulling him closer. Evan likes it. Evan likes the way he can come to Jared with real problems and he won't be a jackass, even if he usually is. "Being- well, liking guys isn't something to be afraid of- or to be ashamed of. If you like Connor, you should have a real talk with him about it. Be the one to initiate the conversation. God knows he won't." 

It makes Evan laugh just a little, and Jared thinks that's enough.

"W- what if h- he thinks I- I- I'm gr- gross and t- that's why h- he do- doesn't want to- to- contact me?"

"Highly doubt it. You'd turn a lot of guys gay if they knew how feminine you really are." 

Evan's mouth flew open, clearly insulted by the remark. "I- I- I'm n- not fem- fem- feminine!" Jared rolls his eyes, and Evan hits him with a pillow, giggling right after. Jared catches the pillow, laughing, too. And Evan thinks this is okay. He feels okay, everything feels light and lovely and thinking about Connor is making him smile, but thinking about how good he feels like this, with Jared, talking, is also making him smile. 

And for the first time in over a month, Evan _truly_ forgets about all of his problems for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> srry that it's so short :cc i'll try to make them longer but im having a hard time writing stuff aahh i think writer's block is finally ariving


	28. heidi: mother of the year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared wants to tell him what Evan told him.
> 
> Connor wants to tell Jared he's sorry.
> 
> Jared wants to tell Connor it's okay to be scared.
> 
> Connor wants to tell Jared he's scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u know how i said that thig about writers block last chapter? hmm yes it hit very hard so im so so so sorry for not updating for like two weeks. my apush class is insane and idjghdfnas thank u to whomever is staying for the end of this fic i lov u

"Guys! Lighten up!" Alana is the one, surprisingly, to speak up during lunch. It's the first time in about three weeks that Connor is sitting with all of them for lunch. Everything is tense. Evan can't stop thinking about how skinny Connor looks and how much he wishes he brought him a sandwich. Evan can't stop stealing small glances at his angry, slouched figure and at Zoe sitting next to him, patting his knee. He can't stop thinking about how alive he looked when they kissed.

Nobody replies to Alana. It dims her mood, it leaves them to eat in silence. The thing about silence is that there's many different kinds. There's the thinking kind, where all parties are trying to find words to say or trying to form an opinion. There's the comfortable kind, where it's silent because that's what everybody wants and it feels right and everybody likes the fact that there's no noise, no strain, nothing. Just friends sitting. Then, there's the stifling kind. The kind that makes you wanna put a bullet to your head because of how fucking horrible it feels. Because it feels like being beaten and strangled and it's all just too much. That's this kind.

They all feel it. Nobody talks about the stifling silence. 

Instead, Connor walks away, angrily slamming his fist into the table and turning his back on them, muttering under his breath, "I knew I couldn't do it." And this time, Zoe isn't the one to run after him.

It's Jared. Jared Kleinman fucking follows Connor Murphy out of that stupid cafeteria and sits with him against the wall outside. Connor thinks about making a snide remark. He doesn't. Instead, he offers him a cigarette, and Jared takes it. He waits for his light, and then, comes the thinking kind of silence. 

Jared wants to tell him what Evan told him.

Connor wants to tell Jared he's sorry.

Jared wants to tell Connor it's okay to be scared.

Connor wants to tell Jared he's scared.

Instead, "Wanna fuck?"

And Connor says it with so much emptiness inside of him that Jared almost does it just to make him feel something. Just to pity him. He moves away from Connor, shakes his head, takes a drag of his cigarette and chuckles a tiny little bit. "Why do you fuck people when stuff goes wrong?"

"It's not just when stuff goes wrong," Connor whispers, and he sucks on the cigarette. The only reason he likes nicotine more than weed is because he can feel it killing his inside, he can feel it rotting him. "Did you come out here to hear my sob story? Because I kind of have a gym class I need to skip in about fifteen minutes." He turns his head over to Jared, and begins to get up. "Look, if you won't fuck, I can find somebody else that wi-"

"I don't get it," Jared starts, and he gets up together with Connor, smoke at his side. Connor cocks up an eyebrow, intruiged. "You clearly like Evan. Why are you just- why don't you just fucking go for it? I don't understand why you wanna go out there and get fucked by some random dude just to be _satisfied?_ Why-"

"Me fucking people has _nothing_ to do with satisfaction or with whether I like Evan or not." He sucks in some nicotine. "Which I don't."

Jared chuckles again, scratching his nose with his thumb, nodding and smirking. "Alright. Sure. That's why you beat Brady up when he kissed Evan. Makes _so much_ sense." Connor snaps.

He drops his cigarette, grabbing Jared by the collar of his stupid fucking flannel shirt and holding him against the wall. "Did you fucking forget what I'm capable of, Kleinman? Just because we're _friends_ doesn't mean I won't hesitate to kick your ass." It doesn't faze Jared. Connor sees it doesn't and it almost frightens him how calm Jared is, how okay Jared is with almost getting beat up. How much he doesn't care.

"I'm not letting you hurt my best friend. If you have to hurt me, go ahead, but don't fucking do this to _him._ " Connor knows. He knows the way it makes Evan feel, he knows how horrible it feels, but he's confident that hurting Evan like this will hurt less than hurting Evan with a relationship. He's positive that the knots in his stomach when thinking about Evan kissing him aren't real. Can be ignored.

Connor drops Jared, hands at his sides. He apologizes softly, sitting back down against the wall. He would seem unfazed to anybody that didn't know Connor, but to Jared, he looks broken again. "Please talk it out. Please just come to some sort of conclusion so you're not hurting each other constantly? It's already February, prom'll be here before you know it and I would like for the entire friend group to have fun together."

"Jared, I can't just talk it out," Connor hides. Like always, he's hiding behind being scared, insecure, lonely, desperate. He's trying to be selfless. He's trying to do what's best for Evan. What he thinks is best. Jared frowns, sitting down next to Connor. "There's nothing to talk about, okay? Especially not with you." 

Jared scoffs. It makes Connor's skin crawl, hearing dissatisfaction directed towards him. Hearing somebody be angry with him, upset with him. It happens a lot, sure, but he never gets used to it. He can feel the marks on his body start to itch, trying to fight back tears because _I will not cry in front of Jared Kleinman._ "I'm done here, hopefully you are, too."

 

Evan finally talks to his mother.

Not because he wanted to, but because it fell out of his mouth. Like words started tumbling from his lips and wouldn't stop no matter how much he tried making them stop. Because all she asked was, "How was your day, sweetheart?"

And Evan had replied, "B- bad- It was b- bad because after C- Connor and I k- k- kissed last mo- month, he's hated me. A- and I- I- don't know what to do a- and he doesn't w- want to talk to me anymore. I wanna t- talk to him, though. I w- want to f- figure out if- if he wants to date or if he just wants to- to use me or if it was a o- one time things or if he does hate me." Evan takes a breath.

Two second after, his hands close around his mouth, and he steps back, seeing the look in his mother's eyes. He tears up, and he runs off to his room. The door doesn't lock anymore, so he shoves his bed in front of it and sits down. He sits down and cries and shakes and fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck _I just came out to my mom._ Evan's cries must bounce through the walls loud enough for his neighbors to hear it because he can't hear his mother telling him to open the door over them.

Heidi is standing outside of his bedroom, with eyebrows furrowed, softly knocking and asking if she can come in. Evan doesn't hear her. He cannot possibly hear her over all the shit going on in his head. Over all the shit going on with him, physically. "Evan, honey, please, open the door!"

Her frustration is beyond any scale measurable. Evan won't stop panicking. Great combo.

Evan's cycle starts. He feels fucking disgusting, thinking back at the kiss, the look on his mom's face, the way Connor and him were touching each other, the way he thinks about Connor. It's wrong. He's wrong. It's all wrong. And then.

A call.

From Connor. 

And Evan cannot physically answer. He cannot look at the screen in front of his eyes and press the green button. His eyes are too teary, his body too shaky and his thoughts too jumbled. He can't. But. The distraction does make him hear his mother begging for entrance. He gets up. He waits for Connor's call to fall out, and he turns his phone off. Evan moves his bed away from the door nervously, telling his mother to answer with twiddling thumb. 

He sits on the floor facing the wall.

Heidi walks in, and sits right next to him. She takes his hand.

"That's not a very nice thing for him to do," she whispers, kissing the top of his clammy hand. Evan's teary eyes turn confused, looking up at her. "Sweetie, I don't care if you're gay. I really don't."

"Ho- how? A- a- am I n- not a ba- bad Jew?" Heidi chuckles a little, resting her son's head into her shoulder and shaking her head.

"Times have evolved. We're not orthodox Jews, you know?" Evan flares up in embarrassment. "Tell me more about you and Connor. Maybe I can help."

And so, Evan tells her nearly everything. It takes over an hour, with his stuttering and his constant stopping because it's embarrassing, but he talks to her. He talks to his mom for the first time in a long while, talks to her about life, about Connor, mostly. He tells her everything he likes about him, everything he's grateful for. He tells her that he thinks he might be in love with him. That he's scared. That Connor probably hates him.

Heidi tells him, assures him, promises him, that Connor doesn't hate him. That he's just confused and scared like Evan is. That he's just tired of being left behind. She tells him to invite him over again sometime, to have dinner with the three of them. She tells him everything he needed to hear and more and more and Evan is sure he's picking at loose strands, but maybe he really is loved.

Maybe Connor does love him. Maybe all the things he wants to believe are true, that Connor is confused, broken, scared, hurt. Maybe, just maybe, Connor called to tell Evan how he really felt. 

And then, Evan checks his phone. Two hours after the call.

_can we talk?_   
_maybe texting is better? idk i just wanted to say sorry for kissing you that while back_   
_i wanna stay friends i dnt want to like date or anything can we just forget abt it_   
_srry for being a dick the past few weeks_   
_anyway im tired i think im gonna sleep early 2day_   
_text back asap?_   
_gn_

To which Evan replies:

_Ok._

And he turns his phone off again. Because everything he was just told by Heidi had been a lie. And Evan is never talking to anybody about anything ever again.


	29. solutions, apologies and blue shirts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no rebound from the damage the two have caused each other.
> 
> But there's also no rebound to the love they've shared. To all the times where everything felt perfect: when they kissed, when they had sleepovers, when they would laugh together. He wants it back. He wants just that. "I- I- can't."
> 
> "Why not, Ev? It's not fair he gets to treat you like this and go on with his life-" Jared knows that's not how it is, "You shouldn't feel like this, he shouldn't do this to you."
> 
> "I- I- I'm in- in love w- with him, Jared." Evan's known. It's the only thing that makes sense, because it's the only reason why he can't get over him. Love. The power of love. He hates himself for it, really, but he can't just _stop._ "I- I- nee- need him to- to t- talk to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi so uh  
> im the worst  
> school has been super overwhelming & i havent found time to write and when i did find time i worked on a personal story for a bit aaAaHHh im super sorry ill try to update more regularly but i wont promise anything.

Connor has been lying a lot the past few weeks. For starters, he told Evan he hates him multiple times. He told his mom that living in the tiniest fucking apartment ever is perfectly okay, but it's not, because now they all share a bathroom. He told himself he's gonna get over himself and start doing better in school. He told Alana he's still going to the prom, which, he probably isn't going to do. He's too scared. 

Jared has been comforting Evan a lot, because every other day, Connor storms out of his house after yelling at him, and Evan needs support.

"You can't keep letting him use you like this. Look, Evan, he- I know he's complicated and it's weird and you like him but- that doesn't give him the right to treat you like this," Jared tells him softly, noticing there's surprisingly no new cuts on his upper arms when he strokes the area. Evan flinches a bit, still, but his tired and teary eyes are already showing enough of his suffering. 

Evan quickly shakes his head, and hugs the tree plushy he hasn't let go of in an hour. "H-he's confused and- and it's ho- honestly because of me. I- I- kissed him." Jared sighs, he paces towards the window, wrapping his arms around his body and turning his back to Evan. How can he convince him that Connor wants him, but doesn't know how to function, which makes him a complete dick, which makes Evan blame himself, which makes neither of them make the first move. How can he explain that he wants his best friend to be happy and although Connor Murphy is a candidate, he might not be the best one? How does he explain that he wants Evan to be safe, but Connor isn't the best option?

"You need to get over Murphy." Jared turns back around, his face scrunched as he watched Evan's face shrink into itself. It's obvious he doesn't want to forget about him. "He's only done you bad, you can't make yourself responsible for not 'fixing' him. It's not your fault because you aren't responsible for his mental health." Evan bites down on his lip, his eyes knowingly staring down at the floor. There's no rebound from the damage the two have caused each other.

But there's also no rebound to the love they've shared. To all the times where everything felt perfect: when they kissed, when they had sleepovers, when they would laugh together. He wants it back. He wants just that. "I- I- can't."

"Why not, Ev? It's not fair he gets to treat you like this and go on with his life-" Jared knows that's not how it is, "You shouldn't feel like this, he shouldn't do this to you."

"I- I- I'm in- in love w- with him, Jared." Evan's known. It's the only thing that makes sense, because it's the only reason why he can't get over him. Love. The power of love. He hates himself for it, really, but he can't just _stop._ "I- I- nee- need him to- to t- talk to me." And like Connor heard him from all the way back at his own house, Evan's phone rang, displaying Connor's name. His face. Evan eyes Jared, making sure it's okay, and Jared sighs, signalling to the phone. 

"Hey, Ev," Connor says softly, guilt in his tone.

"H- hi!"

"Shit, you sound like you've been crying. Hey, I- I'm sorry. I don't hate you, obviously. How could I hate you? I just- I'm so stressed with the tiny apartment and my mom wanting to get me therapy but not- not being able to afford it. I'm having a hard time, I'm sorry, I don't mean to take it out on you." Connor kicks a tiny pot of colored pencils over softly, biting on his lip to stop crying. "So- uh- I'm sorry. That's all I can really- uh- say. I don't think we should hang out until I've cooled down, like, a lot. I'm sorry. I just need time to myself--"

"Co- Connor, it's okay," Evan whispered through the phone, sighing. "I- I- agree- with, with- you know? N- not seeing e- each other fo- for a bit."

Connor's eyes fill with clouds of tears, and he tries his hardest to not let it go through in call, but his voice cracks when he says okay, and he immediately hangs up. His fists pound into the walls of his shared room with Zoe, and he starts the crying. He starts shouting apologies at nothing, at nobody but Evan who is unable to hear him. Unable to hear how desperate he is to be loved and helped and _fuck,_ it's just so hard. It's always so hard for him.

Back in second grade, when he threw that printer at his teacher's foot, he felt like an asshole. Now, he keeps leaving Evan to figure shit out by himself, that's not fair. His entire body is so done with all that it's doing, with all the crying, the continuous self-harm, the hitting himself, the shouting and pounding and endlessly fucking strangers. His break from all of it used to be Evan; but now he's fucked that up.

 

"First session is on Wednesday, Connor. Zoe found her for you, because she knows more than I do," Cynthia spoke softly, walking up to her son and kissing his forehead. Connor smiled weakly, shaking with anxiety. Today was Monday. In just two days, Connor would get his first therapy session. After not talking to Evan about anything but their shared Physics class for two weeks, he would have to talk about his problems. He hasn't done that since.

Cynthia quickly throws on her coat, grabs her keys, and waves them off one more time, "Off to work, guys. I love you, make sure you eat!" Connor and Zoe mumble back in agreement in unison, and sit together at the breakfast table. The silence makes Connor wanna die, because his entire body wants to talk, but his throat won't fucking let him.

Zoe passes the milk to him, and Connor takes the last bit, making Zoe chuckle. "You always finish the milk." She nudges her brother softly, who nods, smiling. "I heard you last night, you know?"

"Sorry, there's just like- no privacy." He takes a bit of his Cheerios, but he knows why she brought it up. They can't ignore it any longer. She glances over at him, and then puts her hand on top of his softly.

"I want you to talk to me whenever you feel like-- like that. When you feel like screaming or cutting," Connor flinches, "or crying. I just want you to know I'm here for you and always will be."

"Willyoucometotherapywithme?"

"Sorry, Connie, what'd you say?"

Connor sighs, turning red and taking another bite of cereal. "Will you come to therapy with me? You know, since Evan and I are- not, like, we're not talking and stuff? You don't have to say yes, I just--" Zoe stops him from talking by shoving a bite of cereal into his mouth, and she chuckles.

"Of course I will, Connor. But this- this not speaking to Evan thing is really impacting you and I don't think that- that it's the best for either of you." Connor finishes chewing his cereal, and he sighs. 

He knows it's not what's best for him, but keeps assuming it's what's best for Evan. Because Evan was at least okay before Connor showed up, now he's as much of a mess as he is. "It's best for him."

"No, it's not, actually. Alana has been texting me like crazy because she can't stand sitting with Jared and Evan for lunch, Evan doesn't make himself food anymore now that he doesn't make sandwiches for you, he doesn't eat those weird off-brand Cheetos they sell in the cafeteria. He looks so sad and thin and I think he misses you way more than you think he does." Zoe watches Connor eat with a small tear trickling down his cheek because he hates it. He hates that he makes Evan feel bad while trying to make him feel good. "I'm not telling you to go like, kiss him again. Just- text him?"

He thinks about it, because, well, why not? If he texts Evan and Evan doesn't answer, he'll get really angry, but then at least he knows Evan doesn't really miss him. If he answers, he can try to get their relationship to be healthy. "Okay."

_hey ev what u up to_

It takes less than a minute for him to answer.

_I'm trying to get ready for school but my polos are all dirty :(_

Connor smiles fondly, and forgets about his cereal becoming soggy. Zoe sure doesn't, because she eats his bowl in addition to her own within two minutes. 

_aww wanna borrow 1 of mine? theyre not the cleanest but i have a blue shirt ive never worn_

Way to start off relaxed at a slow pace. Ask him to borrow your shirt. Totally. Every time after they had a falling out, Connor would jump on him too fast and scare him away again. It's happening again, only this time, Evan wants it to happen. Because he feels like things will be okay after this.

_Yeah :) Drop it off at my house in 5?_  
_Mind giving me a lift to school? Sorry it's just that mom already left and I'm too late to start walking and make it on time._

_ofc ev anything for u_

He almost sends it, and then realizes that's _way_ too fast. 

_ofc ev ill be there in 5 make sure ur not completely naked_

_Would applying grammar to texts really kill you?_

Connor laughs loudly, smiling as he grabs the blue shirt he was talking about and throws on a jacket. "I'm driving Ev to school, wanna come?" He turns to Zoe, who nods.

"Don't forget to take it slow, yeah?"

"Will do, sis."

_hmmmmmm yes t would likely kill me very a lot of times_

_W h y_

_omg and whos the not grammar user now there's no period_  
_driving now i gotta go be there soon !!_

Everything feels alright for a second, to both of them. Everything feels like it'll be solved, because Connor is finally getting therapy. Evan is finally taking a medication that's working well for him. And all they can do now is try to help each other. 

And secretly, Evan has a really good plan for prom. Not to be shared to _anyone_ until said day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO UHH IM SORRY ! I LOV U TO ANYONE STILL READING?


	30. sometimes talking hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But all of his analyzing of people's rooms through Instagram profiles was thrown out of the window when he met Connor. Because Connor had everything. Punches in the wall, but flowers in a vase on the desk, a room that you can barely walk in, but an organized set of paints on a stool. Some withering and some lively plants. Drawings on the wall and books on the shelves. Connor was a mystery to him. Is a mystery to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun story: this chapter has been finished for over a week and i was wonderign why it didnt have any comments until i discovered it wasn't posted yet. ha ha !
> 
> another note: i realized that chpater 30 and 31 would be a lot better combined, though very long. sooo if u read chapter 30 that i put up yesterday just skip about half way to get to the rest :)

Connor slams Evan against the wall adjacent to the door, their lips together and moving like they have no other purpose. Evan moans inside of his mouth, his tiny hands grasping at his back when Connor starts to trail his lips down to Evan's neck. He sucks, leaving a hickey, leaving Evan whining and wrapping his legs around Connor in an attempt to get more, more, _more._

"Much better than going to school, eh?" Connor laughs into his mouth, and Evan nods, kissing him back with desire and passion that he's never experienced before. "Off," Connor says as he fumbles with the bottom of the boy's shirt, and Evan complies, lifting his arms up as Connor removes the shirt and it's then that Connor is reminded that this isn't Evan.

That he really, really wants it to be Evan. But it's not. But he keeps going pretending like it is.

 

Evan Hansen always thought you could tell a lot about a person through their room. Messy room? Disorganized person, scattered mind. Books? Intelligent, fast learner, easy to talk to. But what Evan thought was most telling was the way one takes care of their plants. Are they shriveled up and dying? Irresponsible, lazy, most likely a messy room. Are they in full bloom, with vibrant colors and firm leaves, new buds growing? Organized, appreciates small beauties, has names for them after people in their lives. Are they browning but still growing? They try, forgetful or not home often. Good intentions.

But all of his analyzing of people's rooms through Instagram profiles was thrown out of the window when he met Connor. Because Connor had everything. Punches in the wall, but flowers in a vase on the desk, a room that you can barely walk in, but an organized set of paints on a stool. Some withering and some lively plants. Drawings on the wall and books on the shelves. Connor was a mystery to him. Is a mystery to him.

Only now, Connor lives in a box of a room where there is no space for error. Where he is only allowed a half of the box and it is taken by a bed and a desk. No mess. Just paints. And books. And plants. Everything is clean, as much as Connor isn't. 

And Connor has lived here for a month now, but this is the first time Evan has attended the room.

"I- I- It's so cl- clean," Evan whispered, looking around him and viewing the collection of books on the shelves. Connor chuckles, laughing and wrapping his arms around Evan from behind. Evan blushes immediately, being steered forward to the bed. 

"Let's talk prom, yes?" Evan nods, and they sit down together, hands near but far enough to make the space in between seem like a mocking of their separation. "I think our color should be blue, but I also think you should have a flower in your hair." Connor reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind Evan's ear, smiling when he appears to melt from the touch. Connor wants him; not any random guy at school. Him. Evan. His best friend.

"B- b- but what- what if people- if- if people stare and look at us weird when we dance and like, come on, two guys wearing matching colors and- and being together at prom with two girls doing exactly the same thing? I- It's scary, I'm scared. No one knows I'm bi and I don't--"

Connor quickly puts his hand in front of Evan's mouth, chuckling. "Don't worry about stuff like that, Ev." He wraps an arm around him, scooting closer. "Let's just pick out a suit and be fancy and you can worry when we get there. I'll calm you down, okay? No reason to be scared."

He turns red, but he nods, leaning into his friend and smiling. There's a safety that comes with knowing you're with the right person, and Evan manages to continuously push the feeling away. "I-" Before Evan can begin talking, Connor's phone starts ringing, and when Zoe's name is displayed with big letters, he answers immediately, apologizing to Evan with a kiss on the top of his head.

"Zoe, we are in the same house," Connor whispers, making his entrance into the bathroom, leaving Evan alone on the bed. 

"Did you kiss?"

"Why do you ask this every single time we're alone together? No, we didn't, okay? I- I- I need to take it slow for him," he mumbles it like it's something to be afraid of, and proceeds to their mom's room. Zoe is, as expected, sitting on the bed, smiling, and Connor sits himself down next to her. "I don't think the medication is working very well, Zo."

Zoe hangs up the phone she had been holding open as a joke, quickly moving closer to her brother. He'd started about two and a half weeks ago, and they hadn't talked about it. Zoe knew he wouldn't want to. "How come?"

Connor's leg bounces. "I feel so on edge- so, so, hyper and I try to hide it in front of Evan but I've started rambling more and more and shaking or trembling every single fucking day." He chuckles coldly, and he turns away from Zoe. "I fainted in the shower yesterday. I didn't wanna tell you but I feel like, like you should know." Zoe gasps, and she wraps her arms around her brother, who bites the inside of his cheek.

"And it's so weird, because, because, I have all this energy and I feel like- like- like there's about to be an episode any second now, I'm just waiting, you know?" He raises his hand, as if to raise anticipation, "But usually I want to like- fuck everybody near me," Zoe flinches, "but now, I fucked this one guy and I felt so bored the whole time. And jerking off is like, impossible, I feel like I'm having an episode without the sex and without having an episode, does that make sense?"

"God, Con, you need to tell this to Dr. Belotti. I don't think that should really be happening, I- I don't know what to say--"

"Of course you fucking don't!" Connor shouts, and he plants his foot on the ground, standing up and staring at his sister. "You never fucking know what to say. Nobody ever does! I'm just too fucked up, aren't I?!" He grabs Zoe's wrist as she tries to reach out and touch him, calm him down. 

"Connor, stop." Connor grips her wrist harder, pressing his thumb into the whiteness of her skin, watching it turn pale more and more and more and-- "You're hurting me!"

He pauses. Zoe can see it in his face; he physically pauses time in his mind. He drops her wrist, taking three steps back and throwing his hands in front of his mouth. "Fuck," he starts, "I'm so sorry, I- I- I'm so sorry, I didn't- I- I'm sorry," Connor slowly approaches his sister again, rubbing over the spot on her wrist. She starts to cry, and the tears in her eyes are nothing but an unsaid apology.

_Sorry you have to suffer like this. I'm sorry it's so hard to stop. I'm sorry it's so hard to try. I'm sorry I'm still afraid of you._

Connor can feel that everything closes in around them, in a way that's absolutely asphyxiating, both of them internally grabbing at the good parts of Connor. Attempting to desperately pull moments towards them as the moments become flooded with horror and aggression. He doesn't want to live like this any longer, the way he's required to live is too much. Why does she have it so good? Why doesn't she suffer?

"I- Is ev- ev- everything okay?" Evan stutters out as he navigates his way around the corner, into the room, watching the two siblings on the bed. Zoe looking down. Zoe crying. Connor with regret scratched into his pores, his skin, his organs. He wants to look away from the sight, but it reminds him of a car crash. So horrific he cannot possibly look away.

"No, I- not really, Ev. I think you should-" Connor takes a deep breath it, because he doesn't want to do this- he doesn't want to hurt Evan. He can feel mania creeping up from inside of him, waiting to yell and scream and dance around Evan, maybe jump from the roof of the apartment complex, maybe buy some more-- "I think you should go," he says it sternly, and Evan's bright eyes dull. Connor hates when that happens.

"Oh," Evan chokes out softly, his eyes adverting to his feet, apologizing. His vision is blurred by tears, trying to calm himself down as he stumbles away from the room and back into the siblings' shared bedroom. He searches for his bag while panic overflows him -- It's here, he's sure it's here, he knows he put it down somewhere -- but he can't seem to find it. He can't seem to find anything and it scares him because now he feels like a blind mouse trapped with a crowd full of cats and God, he can't breathe. He can't see and he can't breathe and he doesn't know where he's walking or if he's even walking.

Somehow, Evan finds his way outside, tripping over himself in the hot weather, softly letting his entire body collapse right in front of the apartment complex's door. His knees and pulled tightly to his chest, fingertips numbing and Evan can't figure it out. Why. What did Connor say that got to him like it did? All he told him was to get out.

_Yes, but he said it in _that_ way, the way he says it when he's mad. He's mad at you. He's gonna stay mad at you. The way he looked at you means he hates you. It's probably your fault Zoe is crying, too. It's probably your fault that Connor isn't getting better. You said something wrong. You fucked up again. Like you always do. _

It takes fifteen minutes for Evan to feel a large hand on his back, stroking small circles just on his spine. "You alright?"

Evan's heard that voice before. He knows it. It's deep but soft, there's a contrast between his tone and his octave but it's refreshing to Evan. He doesn't want to look up, because he wants it to be Connor. He wants Connor to be comforting him. Not Sulky Voice Guy. "N- N- No."

"What happened, Ev?"

Ev? How does he know that? Evan slowly begins looking up, his eyes leading slowly to the guy's feet, then his shirt, then his jaw and then, through hazy eyes, Evan sees him.

It's fucking Brady.

"B- B- Br- Brady?" Evan tries, his throat clogging up with both shock and panic, watching as Brady nods and chuckles, still rubbing circles on Evan's back. He doesn't want this to be real, frankly, because he's has his time to settle with Connor, but not with Brady. Being around Brady still reminds him of his dad and he can't stand that he feels _disgusting_.

"Remember to breathe, Ev, you're hyperventilating again," he says softly, and he moves himself closer to Evan. Evan digs his fingernails into his arms, wanting to so desperately howl at him to _get off, get away,_ but he can't. Because he's Evan. He can't allow himself to be so _selfish_ as to tell somebody to get off of him. "Hey, you okay?"

And fuck no, Evan is not okay. This is not supposed to happen. Brady is not supposed to appear in his life again, because he literally switched schools and, Evan thought, moved far away. He was wrong. They were all wrong. He's here and Evan can't fucking figure out why he is and why he didn't see him before this and God, he can't breathe. His mind is full of -- Are chests supposed to feel this tight, by the way? -- hurting Connor, hurting Zoe, Brady, his dad, his mom, his mom hurting, him hurting. 

Nothing could ever be okay when Evan wants to fucking die again. And when he's sure that he in fact _is_ dying right now. 

He hears footprints coming from inside the complex, and he feels dizzy and scared because it's loudloudloudloud and he wants quiet, he wants alone, he wants Brady gone and he wants pizza and maybe tea and his tree plushee and-- "What the fuck?" Connor.

"Connor, hi," Brady says, and it's smug, and Evan knows it is. Connor knows it is. Evan wants to leave, knowing they're about to fight. He also knows he will most definitely not be able to leave while still having a panic attack. He watches through hazy clouds in his eyes as Connor clenches his fists, closes his eyes and starts to count. Connor is counting down. He's using a coping mechanism that isn't yelling. Fuck. Evan shouldn't be this proud.

"Get away from him," he announces it calmly, like it's all under control and Evan isn't having a panic attack. He can see Connor looking over at him, worried whenever he lets out another scattered breath. While having mostly calmed down, Evan knows he's still vulnerable. Especially when Brady grazes the skin of his shoulder, where he shirt just ends from being too large on him. He smirks. Evan is uncomfortable. "Seriously, step off. He just had a panic attack, I came to apologize."

"Oh, you caused it?" Connor looks down at his shoes in guilt, and Evan wants to yell, scream, that he didn't. But his mouth appears to be glued shut, air barely passing through. "You mean, again? Like- uh, I don't know, you always do?"

Evan gasps at that, moving away from Brady's touch, but he pulls him closer again. Connor sees, now forcefully pulling Brady off of Evan. "Shut your fucking mouth, asshole. You and I both know what I'm capable of and I don't think you want another week in the hospital to remind you of that," he hisses it, followed by spitting directly into his face. Brady chuckles, nodding. Evan swears he's going to cry again. "Fucking save it, you're not tough."

"Neither are you. You're like, what? 6 feet tall and weigh like ninety pounds? Yeah, a real threat." It lands him a blow in the face. "Nice one," he coughs, grabbing for his nose, feeling a bit of blood trickling out. "All you can do?"

"Don't do this here, man. Not now. Don't provoke me in front of him, he just had a fucking pa-"

"Yeah, yeah, we know, we all fucking know. He had a panic attack. What else is new, right?" Brady laughs it out like Evan's mental illness means nothing, and it leaves Evan trying to gasp for breath again. 

Connor's jaw, meanwhile, clenches. He closes his eyes again, and then turns his head to face Evan. "Please go up to Zoe and tell her I'll be down here a bit," Connor says, and his tone completely softens when speaking to Evan, "I love you." Evan nods, he shakily makes his way to the elevator, even if their apartment is on the third floor.

Brady is still pinned to the wall, Connor holding his wrists above him. It all feels so much like it did before, like Connor never got any better at all when he really, really wants to but fuck that. Fuck that when Brady was making a move on _his_ Evan. Fuck that when Brady was touching _his_ Evan. There's no way he can let him get away with that. No fucking way.

"Why aren't you beating me up, huh? You become a pussy since New Years?" Brady taunts him, like it's some kind of joke. Because Connor can see the blood coming from his nose, and he hears Brady try to sniff it up every single time. Connor exhales quickly, and he's shaking now, thinking about what he can do to hurt Brady, about what he can do to make sure Brady never fucking does anything like this again. Brady leans in closer then, pressing his mouth against Connor's ear and for a second, Connor shivers. "Make me shut the fuck up, huh?"

Connor blinks quickly. He knows what he means. "Are you asking me to fuck you?" He pulls away then, suddenly in disgust of Brady and his intents and he feels so fucking _gross_ that he can barely keep himself from dissociating.

"You bet, Murphy. I've hears from about twenty five people that you're quite good and I--" Connor doesn't hear the rest. Jesus. Twenty-five? _I couldn't tell you a handful of their names. I'm a horrible person. Fuck, I'm a horrible fucking person._ He walks off, away from Brady, back into his apartment, without saying another word. Without reacting to Brady. Without reacting. He's watching himself from the outside, making it up the stairs is exhausting, opening the door is exhausting. 

He's not in control of his body anymore. It becomes more and more clear when he walks into his room, sits down next to Evan and doesn't say a word. And even when Evan tries to speak to him, to talk, he can't listen. He picks up small phrases but he's not there. He's watching a movie of himself. The life of Connor Murphy. Dissociating is worse when there's another person next to you that has no idea it happens and has no idea when it is happening.

He understands Evan is concerned. But he touches him. And Connor hits his hand away, reflex. Connor starts to breathe heavier. Connor can't talk, can't move, eyes wide, nothing seems real, not a single thing appears as if it's actually happening. Evan is crying again, Connor wants to help but can't. He can't because everything is coming back to him, everything he's been suppressing with sex is coming out. His entire life story plotted into his mind, scars too deep into his flesh to even see on the outside suddenly revealed. His body feel broken, torn apart.

Connor hears it when Evan runs to Zoe, begging for help. Asking why he's isn't responding. Meanwhile, Connor is shouting at the top of his lungs. But it seems more relaxed now. Like his there-self isn't getting any of the pain that his dissociation-self is getting. Like when he comes back, everything will be okay. Like protection. This is his protection. A way to forget what happened, to forget why it happened, how it happened, how it felt. 

He's talking, he's sure of it, but he doesn't know what he's saying while Zoe is talking to him. It's like he's listening to her, but it comes out the other ear, and whatever he says doesn't form in his mind, just his mouth. His body takes over for the anxiety taking over. "Con, hey, you- are you okay? What happened out there?" Zoe was the first one who knew. It's only because she found his blog, which he had turned off of every search engine, made explicit, and private, on tumblr. That doesn't mean she couldn't pick up his phone and find it. 

"W- Wh- What's ha- happening? W- W- W- Why i- i- is he ta- ta- talking like that?" Evan stutters, tears drowning his blue sweatshirt, and he tries to help Connor. No, he wants to help Connor. But he has no fucking idea how.

"Dissociating. Something happened outside, fuck. This hasn't happened in months, least not while I was around," Zoe curses under her breath, and she looks around their shared wardrobe to take out an item Evan knows all too well. Weighted blanket. "Move your feet, Con, on the bed." Connor doesn't hear. His body does. His body asks why, Zoe asks if she can move his feet for him. His body says yes. His feet get moved. He's laying down.

"Con, you're okay," Zoe says softly, voice hushed as she sprawls the blanket across her brother's body, who flinches first. Flinches a lot. He winces, his arms rejecting the blanket and then Zoe-- "It's that." Her eyes well with tears. She takes off the blanket, and she takes it away. "I'm turning the light off and I'm gonna leave you alone a bit." She does as she said, turning the light to a mere dim and motioning for Evan to walk away with him. "Don't you dare go into the bathroom."

"Wh- wh- what's ha- ha- happening to him?" Evan asks, hushed, but panicked, his eyes filling with more and more tears as Zoe and him sit outside of the bedroom door, backs against the wall. Zoe doesn't dare answer, and she fishes her phone out of her pocket and unlocks it before handing it to Evan.

She sighs when he doesn't take it, confused by her offering. "I can't tell you, so, please, distract yourself? He'll tell you someday, I'm sure of it, but today isn't it." It terrifies Evan knowing that something happened to Connor that he wishes to never speak about. Something so horrible that he doesn't feel in touch with reality. It's happened to Evan before, once or twice, he's felt like he was on automatic pilot. But those were times when he was thinking about killing himself, and his body wouldn't let him. _Is that what's happening to Connor?_

 

Before Connor walks out of the room, he's been doing other things. He was writing, he was drawing, he sang a bit. His body did. He watched. It felt calm, everything felt calm, and then his body let him have control again and it all felt new. Like his hands got reattached to his body, like he was a little voice inside somebody else and now he's his own person. He's save now, he's okay now. It's over now.

But when he walks into the living room and sees Zoe and Evan sitting at the table, Evan's knee bouncing while playing solitaire on Zoe's phone, embarrassment flushes over him. "H- hey," he whispers softly, only just loud enough for Evan to turn his head and smile softly through worried eyes. Connor hates it, Connor hates the pity. Connor hates that he feels like he's going to yell at Evan. "Prom planning?" Connor suggests quietly, and Evan nods.

Sometimes it feels like that's all he's good for, making Evan smile. And that doesn't sound all too bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ple ase comment keep me. alive with ur validation and love


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